A Sunset Bird In Winter
by Starking
Summary: No one asked her if she wanted to leave her life behind to marry a stranger and live in a place she'd never seen. But then, when had she ever gotten what she wanted? Robb/OC, AU in later chapters
1. One

Part One

I

_The west was getting out of gold,_  
><em>The breath of air had died of cold,<em>  
><em>When shoeing home across the white,<em>  
><em>I thought I saw a bird alight.<em>

_- Looking for a Sunset Bird in Winter, Robert Frost_

The air was cold. That was the first thing she noticed about the North. It seeped through one's skin in settled in one's bones. The others didn't seem to notice the cold, or if they did, they didn't mind it. But Ella - the cold unnerved her. It was gradual, she knew - warm didn't simply become cold. But when she woke up, exited her tent to greet the frigid morning, it hit her all at once.

Above, the sky was bleak and grey. There were no birds singing in the branches of the trees. The North was strange. It was different, and she wasn't quite sure if she liked it. But, then again, when did it truly matter what she did and did not like? It wasn't like anyone asked her if she wanted to leave her home, leave its warmth and its blue skies and its singing birds. No, no one asked her if she wanted to leave her life behind and marry a stranger and live in a place she'd never seen.

But then, when had she ever gotten what she wanted?

"Saddle up, Lady Ellanor," Ser Josiah bowed sharply. "We will arrive in Winterfell by sundown if we leave now."

She didn't say anything, only nodded and turned to lace up her riding boots and wait to be assisted onto her horse. Once the camp was packed up and away, Ser Josiah got on one knee, took one of her feet, and boosted her onto the mare's back. Ella grabbed the reins numbly, fingers freezing despite her leather gloves. Her horse would be the only thing that would be left of her home when she lived in Winterfell. Her brother and the small party of guards they had brought would stay for only a week, and then they would saddle up and return to Coldocean Cove the day after the wedding.

Olin and Ser Josiah and all of the men would go back to the warm air and the smell of the sea and the comforts of their home.

Ella would be left with her horse and a cold ring on her finger and a stranger for a husband.

It was a little like being a slave, she thought, but never did the thought leave her mouth. Her maidservant, Penelope, had been left at Coldocean. "You'll get another one in Winterfell," Olin said. She didn't want another one, she wanted Penelope, with her sandy curls pulled back in a braid and the smattering of freckles over her nose like breadcrumbs on a porcelain plate.

But, again, what Ella wanted and what Ella got were two entirely different things.

Her bum was sore now from the saddle. They'd been riding for days - she'd lost count now. Olin had said that it would be a fortnight's ride. In the back of her mind, she thought perhaps she should have taken him up on his offer to ride in a carriage. But still she did not complain. If she was going to have the rest of her life decided for her, she'd make her own decisions whenever she could, even if it was something as trivial as riding horseback or in a carriage.

Winterfell would have been lovely if she wasn't dreading it. When they came up on the hill and saw the castle in the distance like stones in a pile, there was a twist in her stomach that made her want to retch. She kept her head bowed the rest of the way there. She didn't look up when the castle loomed before her, she didn't look up when they passed through the town and people gawked at the newcomers, and she certainly didn't look up when the entire Stark family was lined up in a row to greet her.

"Lord Olin," Lord Stark greeted, and Ella could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm sorry to hear about your father. He and I were good friends when we were younger."

Part of her wanted to look up and see what he looked like - if he looked as kind as his voice sounded. But she didn't. She kept her head adamantly bowed. Olin was walking towards her - she could hear the familiar pattern of his wonky gait in the terse silence. He came to her and tugged on her hand.

"Ella, come on. You have to come down now."

She wanted to scowl and pout like a little girl, and childishly state, "I don't want to come down!"

But she didn't. She followed orders like she was taught to - let him take her waist and help her slip off Amia's back. With one hand, she held her skirts, not quite wanting to face the inevitable truth that they'd get muddy on the ground. Olin took her hand and lead her forward. When they paused, she finally forced herself to look up.

Lord Stark, she learned right away, was not as imposing as some made him out to be. He smiled at her kindly and inclined his head just so.

"It's good to see you again, Lady Ellanor," he said as she dipped down in a slight curtsy. "You were this tall when I last saw you." He gestured to about halfway up his chest. He reminded her of her father, and she couldn't help but allow a chuckle to brush past her lips. Indeed, it had been years since Lord Stark had come to visit her parents in Coldocean. She had only seen him once, to greet him, before deciding that she was rather intimidated by him and scampered off to spend the rest of his stay at the beach or in the woods.

"This is my wife, Catelyn," he introduced, gesturing to his left, and Ella was brought out of her thoughts by his voice. Lady Stark looked kind as well. Ella was sure she spotted a spark of sympathy in her eyes, and upon reflection, wondered if there was also some understanding there, too.

"And my son, Robb."

No. Ella didn't want to look. What if he was horribly ugly? It was a shallow thought, she knew, but if she was going to be forced to spend the rest of her life with him, surely the gods would be kind enough to give him good features? Lord and Lady Stark seemed to be rather good-looking, or were when they were younger, and so Ella hoped that perhaps Robb Stark wasn't so bad, but she had seen before two beautiful people make a less-than-beautiful child.

But she had to look. Curiosity and duty both forced her to turn her head towards him.

Oh, thank the Seven.

Robb Stark wasn't bad looking at all. But she saw that he was nervous, too, by his tensed shoulders and the way that his lips were set in a firm line. Somehow that comforted her, made her feel less alone. When she gathered up the courage to look him straight in the eye, she saw him relax, and wondered if maybe he thought she wasn't so bad-looking either. He reached for her hand and something possessed her to allow him to take it. All the while keeping his eyes on hers, he pressed his lips to the back of her hand and said, "My Lady."

And then she lost her courage and looked to the next child just as Lord Stark introduced her. Sansa was pretty. Young and tall and pale, with orange hair like the leaves on the trees when summer turned to autumn. The young Stark girl reminded her of the young ladies of the court in Coldocean Cove that she was always jealous of. Arya was next, and Ella could see that she would have a rather peculiar beauty about her - that she would grow up to be one of those women who should not, in any way, be beautiful, but somehow made all the jaws drop as she walked by. Bran was beside her, young and fresh-faced, with a look of innocence and an air of mischievousness. To Catelyn's left was Rickon, the youngest, who made her laugh right away when he puffed out his chest and put his fists on his hips.

They were lead indoors, and Ella was thankful to be out of the cold. Winterfell was warm, and felt very much like a home. The warmth in the keep banished the cold and let a good feeling settle inside her. A petite little maid came forward and curtsied low, keeping her head down.

"This is Analysa," Lady Stark said. "She will be your lady's maid. She's very sweet, I'm sure she'll be to your liking."

Analysa looked up to offer her a smile, and Ella could inspect her for the first time. Her hair was red as well, a dark color that reminded her vaguely of blood. Her skin was pale, her eyes a fiery amber and her lips thin and drawn. Her limbs were gangly and she was short and skinny. Ella thought that she would rather have Penelope serve her still, but gave both Analysa and Lady Stark approving smiles.

"Thank you," she said to Catelyn. Lady Stark smiled.

"Winterfell will be your home now," she said. "I'll do all I can to help you feel like it is."

Ella remembered just then that Catelyn must have known how she was feeling. Lady Stark was born a Tully of the Riverlands, brought to Winterfell to make it her home and leave her life behind.

"Thank you," she said again, and was shown to her room.

It wasn't until she arrived in her room that she realized how hot she was. The room was small but spacious, with a sturdy four poster bed and a fire already roaring in the hearth. Hesitantly, Ella removed the heavy cloak from her shoulders and deposited it on the living chair by the fireplace.

"Is there anything you would like, Lady Reems?" Analysa asked from the doorway. Ella twisted around to face her.

"Yes," she decided after a moment. "I should like to bathe before I dine with the Starks tonight."

Analysa bowed her head and scurried away. Turning back to the room, Ella took a moment to further examine her surroundings. She moved to the bed and ran her hand over the soft furs, then around to pull the shutters away from the windows. She could see out to the fields and forests of the North, the sky blue and gray all at once, full with clouds that would never bring rain.

Ser Josiah brought her luggage in, a small chest that held four dresses; one for the dinner that night, one for riding in, one for during the day, and one for sleeping in. Then there was a ribbon for her hair - black, because it went with everything - and a pair of boots.

And that was all. None of her nice hair pins or jewelry. All of her dresses, light and silky, were still hanging in her old wardrobe. Everything she owned was back at Coldocean Cove, and not one part of her thought that she'd see them again. Analysa prepared her bath, and when the young maid left, Ella locked her door and undressed herself slowly, stepping into the tub and sinking under the water.

* * *

><p>Ella was waiting when Olin came knocking on her door. She called for him to enter and turned to face him when he did. He smiled at her.<p>

"You look lovely," he complimented, holding his arm out for her to take. She offered him a halfhearted smile and gently took his arm, smoothing out any wrinkles in her long grey dress. It had a pretty design on the bodice and around the hemline, and the sleeves were gathered just so. She quite liked it, but did not approve of the lack of color. All of her dresses back home were vividly colored, bright like the flowers that grew like vines along the walls of the castle.

When they entered the great hall, she could practically feel each and every eye on her. Ella kept her head down, always far too shy for her own good. Her mother was a social butterfly, always with every eye on her at feasts and gatherings. Ella was never like that. She preferred to stay by herself or in the company of a small group of friends. When she was younger, the shyness was crippling. When addressed by a stranger, she'd seize up and stutter incoherently. A Lady could only live so long being shy - she grew out of her nervousness eventually, but would still rather spend her time alone painting than out mingling.

She tried to ignore the stares as she sat down between Olin and Robb, imagining that the people staring at her were people she knew from home. The first part of her meal was eaten in silence. Olin would make comments to her every so often, and she would acknowledge them, but never reply. A part of her wanted to speak to Robb, to get to know the man who would be her husband in just a few short days. The rest of her didn't want to touch him with a ten foot pole.

The room was alive with chatter and pipers played their music in a corner. Ella finished her food quickly. It was tough and chewy but warm, and Ella was so hungry that she found that she didn't mind what it was so long as it was food. When she was done, she folded her hands in her lap and looked around at the people. There was something about the Northerners that made them different than the people back home. She couldn't quite put her finger on it - they looked, for the most part, the same - perhaps rougher and more untamed than people down South, but still somehow graceful and beautiful all the same.

Robb cleared his throat beside her. "Are you enjoying your stay so far, Lady Reems?" he asked politely, examining her from the corner of his eye. She cocked her head just slightly towards him, to show that she acknowledged his question, and paused to make it seem as if she were truly considering his words.

"I am," she responded. "The North is different than my home, but I think I quite like it." A moment of silence passed between the two, before she added, "And you may call me Ella, Lord Stark."

"If I am to call you Ella, then you are to call me Robb," he returned. She smiled softly, but before anymore words could be said between the two, Josiah cut in.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Lord Stark. Lady Reems, your brother inquires of your health. You must be tired. Do you wish to retire?"

She thought for a moment. This was her first chance to speak properly with Robb, to get to know what he was like. If she had to be stuck with him for the rest of her life, she wanted to know what he was like. On the other hand, she thought, she had spent two weeks sleeping on the cold ground and was aching (literally) for the comforts of a proper bed.

"No," she declined politely, smiling slightly at the knight. "I think I might enjoy Lord Stark's company a bit longer."

Ser Josiah bowed sharply to the pair, then turned and marched away to return to Olin. As he left, Ella thought that perhaps she should have gone with him as an awkward silence settled over she and Robb.

"What do you like to do?" he asked. Startled at his sudden question, she blinked in surprise at him.

"I beg your pardon?" she gaped.

"In your spare time," he elaborated. She nodded in understanding, then shrugged.

"Paint, sing..." she trailed off, then lowered her voice significantly. "I love to practice archery as well," she admitted, then, with a chuckle, continued, "it used to drive my mother mad."

Robb smiled. "Are you any good?" he inquired. She shrugged again.

"My brother always seems rather impressed, but perhaps he doesn't realize that women can be good at things that aren't knitting and sewing." Robb laughed, and Ella turned in her seat to face him. "And you? What do you enjoy?"

He seemed rather surprised at her question and shrugged his shoulders dumbly, stumped. "Hunt, spar," he listed. "The usual, I suppose." As he reached for his goblet of ale, she pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn.

"Perhaps I should have taken up Ser Josiah's offer to retire," she sighed, eyelids drooping. Robb chuckled.

"Would you like me to escort you to your room, Lady Reems?"

Ella looked playfully perturbed at the use of her formal name, but nodded nonetheless. "That would be delightful, Lord Stark," she returned. He stood and held his hand out to her. She gripped it only to heave herself onto her feet, then let his hand fall away from hers once she was standing. They exchanged meaningless, idle comments as they traversed the halls, eventually falling into a companionable silence. When they reached her door, the silence became awkward.

"Goodnight, then," Ella said, clearing her throat. Robb nodded to acknowledge her, and she slipped into her room.

* * *

><p>When she woke up, she didn't know where she was. The comfort of the warm bed initially made her think that she was at home, that the two solid weeks of sleeping on the ground in the cold were just a twisted nightmare, but then she opened her eyes and found that where she was was nothing like her home, and that was when she remembered that she was in Winterfell. Heaving a sigh and pulling herself out of bed, Ella brought a fur blanket to wrap around herself and moved to the window to look outside.<p>

Winterfell was nice in the morning, she thought. The sky was a brighter blue that day, less grey and certainly less daunting.

"Good morning, Milady," Analysa greeted from behind her. Ella smiled faintly at the maid.

"Good morning," she returned, then stood and tossed the blanket on the bed so Analysa could help her into her dress. It was long and warm, made of a thick fabric dyed in dark green. When the dress was on and tied, the little maid pushed Ella into a chair and pulled the two front sections of her hair back, twisting them and tying them and leaving the rest of her hair to hang down in a mass of waves around her shoulders.

"There," Analysa proclaimed, and looked proud with her hands on her hips. "Now you look like a real Northern woman."

"I've not been here a day and already you're trying to make me look the part?" Ella chuckled disapprovingly. Analysa shrugged.

"It will help you to get used to your new home. I hear that in Coldocean you wore thin dresses and piled your hair on top of your head. If you dressed like that here in the North, you'd freeze to death before you stepped outside."

Ella nodded. "I suppose you're right."

Analysa accompanied her down to the Great Hall, and there they found Olin seated and eating. Ella sat herself next to him, asking for a plate of sausage from a kitchen servant and waiting for her brother to speak up.

"Good morning," he greeted, still chewing on a mouthful of toast. She nodded.

"I suppose."

Olin turned to her, wiping his mouth. "Now, what's that supposed to mean?"

Ella cast a glance Analysa's way, spotting the girl across the room giggling with another maid. "Look at me," she hissed, "they've already made me to look Northern."

"It's a good look on you," he pointed out, perhaps thinking it would quell her worries.

"I don't want it to look good on me!" she cried. "I want to go home!"

Olin sighed, turning completely towards her. "Ella, listen - you're sixteen now, a grown woman. It's your duty to marry the Stark boy. Now that Father is dead, we need to strengthen our ties with other houses. We're not the richest family, you know that. Father was an intimidating man, and I need to uphold his reputation, all the while carving one for myself. You should be glad that Lord and Lady Stark ever accepted the proposal in the first place. They're the Wardens of the North, Ella. It's like if you were marrying Edmure Tully, only further away from home. I was worried I'd have to marry you to a Frey." Ella choked on her drink. _Seven hells._ Olin sighed. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm to marry a Bracken girl a week after I return home."

"It doesn't make me feel better," Ella said softly. "It just means that there will be another girl like me."

* * *

><p><strong>I don't know what's happening. I'm walking blindly in the dark with this story. A few days ago I just got this surge of inspiration and I couldn't stop writing. No planning, no plot, just words.<strong>

**This is probably a bad thing. I have a feeling that this story might be bad for my health.**

**...review anyway?**

* * *

><p><strong>Title and verse at the beginning are from Looking For a Sunset Bird in Winter by Robert Frost.<strong>

**Trust me, if I owned Game of Thrones, _you'd know_.**


	2. Two

**EDIT: 7/1/14 - Hey everyone! It was brought to my attention that there were coding issues with this chapter. I'm not sure what caused them, but as you can see now, it is fixed. If anyone catches anymore issues like this, please let me know!**

II

After breakfast, Ella was bartered off onto Lady Stark. Catelyn smiled kindly at her, leading her through the castle and to a warm parlor room. A Septa was already in there, instructing Sansa and Arya with their stitch work. Sansa looked enraptured, eager to please the Septa. Arya, on the other hand, kept throwing sullen glances at the window, perhaps thinking that she would rather be anywhere but there. Lady Stark handed Ella an embroidery hoop with a sheet of cloth stretched over it and grabbed one for herself, and the two occupied the last two empty chairs.

"How are you enjoying Winterfell so far, Ellanor?" Lady Stark asked. Ella smiled.

"It's lovely," she replied, "and very cozy. I think I will have no trouble making it my home." A flat-out lie, but Lady Stark needn't know.

"Do you like needlework?" Sansa asked, and Ella's head swiveled to face her. She thought for a moment.

Yes," she decided. Not a lie this time, but perhaps not the whole truth. "I spent a lot of time with a needle and thread back home." Then she hesitated, nibbling on her lip. "I don't suppose...I would be imposing if I asked for a canvas and paints?"

"Lady Stark looked momentarily surprised, but recovered quickly. "Of course," she responded. There was a moment of silence between the four.

"I want to go outside!" Arya cried suddenly. Catelyn sighed, and Ella could see Sansa roll her eyes.

"You've just started," Catelyn countered. Arya pouted.

"I don't want to learn needle point."

"Lady Stark," Ella intervened, pausing shortly before continuing, "Perhaps Arya could take a break from her needlework and accompany me outside? I haven't yet had a chance to see Winterfell properly."

Catelyn sighed again, thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Of course."

Arya grinned, happily casting her embroidery hoop aside and almost literally jumping out of her seat. Ella set her embroidery off to the side, gave kind smiles to Sansa and Lady Stark, then followed Arya out of the room. Once the door was shut firmly behind them, Arya grinned up at her.

"Thanks."

Ella chuckled. "I never liked needlework much," she admitted. The young Stark furrowed her brow.

"But you told Sansa that you liked it," she said. Ella stooped slightly to come to Arya's level and lowered her voice.

"Now, you must keep this in perfect confidence," she whispered. "Can I trust you?" Arya nodded fervently. "I may have stretched the truth a bit." She laughed as Ella straightened and held out her hand. "Let's explore Winterfell, shall we?"

The first place Arya took her was the courtyard. Ella found that she liked Winterfell; it was very communal, very close-knit, whereas her home was not. People were milling about everywhere, exchanging friendly hellos and quick goodbyes. But what caught Ella's attention was the three men laughing and chatting by the archery targets.

And one of those men was Robb.

Arya seemed to notice where Ella's eyes were glued. "That's Jon he's talking with," she said, tugging on her hand. "Our half-brother, Jon Snow. And Theon Greyjoy. He's Father's ward."

Ella nodded absently. After a moment, she blinked and shook her head, smiling down at Arya. "Let's see more of Winterfell, yes?"

Arya returned her smile, and lead her around the town. She pointed out various places - the blacksmith, the bakery, the brothel ("Mother says never to go near there.") It was when Arya was pointing to the entrance to the Godswood that Ella spotted Bran clinging to a high wall.

"What on earth is he doing up there?" she cried, startled. Arya looked confused for a moment, then saw where Ella was looking and shrugged.

"He likes to climb," she said simply. Ella sputtered.

"Surely that is unsafe?"

Arya stared up at Bran. "He's never once fallen," she explained. "Even when it rains. He climbs every day."

It gave Ella an unpleasant feeling to see him up there, but if Arya said that he was safe, she figured she must take her word. They returned to the courtyard not long after, Arya hopped onto the fence that Ella was leaning against and they spoke idly of meaningless topics, testing the waters of their relationship. Ella would be her goodsister soon, Arya wanted to see if she liked her, if she was good enough for Robb. Ella was trying to figure out the anomaly that was the youngest Stark girl.

That was, until Arya stopped talking. She stared over Ella's shoulder for a moment, raising her eyebrows, and then gave her companion a smile and a quick goodbye before hopping off of the fence and scurrying off. Ella stared after her in half-wonder, half-confusion, and chuckled a bit to herself.

"Good morning."

Ella gasped, faltering slightly and twisting around to face the voice, only to find Robb behind her. She placed a hand on her chest, recovering. "Oh, Lord Stark," she breathed, "you gave me a fright."

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "What did I say about calling me Lord Stark?"

Ella chuckled, albeit a bit uncomfortably. "emRobb,/em" she amended. He smiled. There was a silence, before Ella spoke up. "Your sister was just showing me around Winterfell."

"Let me guess, needlepoint?"

"Precisely." They both laughed shortly. Yet another silence fell between them, much more comfortable that time. Ella stared at the buildings around her, completely enraptured in her surroundings, but Robb's eyes were locked on her. He soaked in her features, the curve of her nose and the tilt of her eyes. He realized then just how much she looked like her brother, but her features were softer and her hair was lighter.

And he realized that she looked sad. Not in her expression, but in her eyes - he had never quite noticed before, his friends' eyes were always quite happy. But Ella had a certain gleam in her eyes and Robb just knew that all of her smiles were false and all of her laughs were forced. He wanted to ask her why she was sad, but realized that the reason was right in front of her.

He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, and her attention was drawn back to him. "My mother is occupied, isn't she?"

Ella looked confused. "Yes," she responded slowly, eyes narrowing just so. Robb nodded, clearly in thought.

"If you would like," he began, equally as slowly, "you may practice archery." Ella looked surprised.

"Really?" she breathed, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Yes," Robb nodded, "but if my mother sees, you're acting of your own volition."

She laughed, a true, gleeful laugh, and grinned at him. "Thank you," she said giddily, and he led her to the archery range in the courtyard.

"It's been months since I've shot an arrow," she confided, a dreamy edge to her voice. He strung the bow and she clipped the quiver belt around her hips. When she had the bow and arrow in hand, she took a moment to aim, closing one eye and tilting her head to ensure the arrow met it's mark. "My brother tells me that I must engage in 'elegant pursuits,' whatever that means." The arrow was released with a twang and met the target remarkably close to the center. She quickly brought another arrow to the bowstring. "I've painted too much for my liking. I enjoy it, yes -" this time, the arrow was just off-center. "- but archery has always been my greatest delight."

"And you're very good at it, as well," Robb remarked, allowing his eyebrows to rise just so. She shot him a smile./p

"Why, thank you," she chuckled, and shot another arrow. "Now tell that to my brother."

* * *

><p>Ella was noticeably happier when they sat down for dinner. The corners were still quirked up in a shadow of a smile, and her eyes looked considerably less tired and much brighter. Olin noticed this. She stayed quiet again, but that did not worry him, because he knew how his sister preferred to speak through actions rather than words. However, he had seen Arya Stark leading Ella through Winterfell earlier that day, and heard from Jon Snow and Theon Greyjoy that Robb and Ella were practicing archery in the courtyard.<p>

Well, that just meant good things.

"I hear you are taking to the Starks well," he began conversationally. Ella swallowed and smiled softly.

"Yes. They're very kind to me," she responded, almost as if she knew what he was getting at and was purposely avoiding the topic, but Olin pressed on.

"Their youngest daughter has warmed to you," he continued, and Ella nodded.

"Oh, yes. She reminds me of myself, but I daresay I was more disciplined."

"And Lord Robb..." he trailed off, clearly hinting at what he wanted to talk to her with. Ella shot him a look from the corner of her eye.

"He's very kind to me," she said slowly, as if considering her words carefully before speaking them. "He doesn't seem to mind my love of archery."

Olin was silent for a moment, thinking. "And as a husband?"

Ella looked faintly shocked. "It seems he would make a fine husband, but I've known him a day. It will take time to tell." The last sentence was spoken sharply, indicating that she had no more to say on the matter, and even if she did, she would never indulge him. He nodded in understanding.

"How was your day, then?" he asked. It was very close to their previous topic, but Ella didn't seem to mind, and if she did, she certainly didn't show him.

"It was nice," she responded shortly, but her sharp tone was gone.

"That's good," Olin nodded. He hesitated. "Now, as I'm sure you're well aware, your wedding is to take place in two days' time." She scrunched her face up. He knew it was a difficult topic, but her wanted her to stare it in the eye until it no longer bothered her. "And then the men and I will be returning home. I trust you will be fine alone? Perhaps I could stay a day longer..."

No. The longer he stayed, the harder it would be for her to see him leave. She bit her lip, then turned to him. "No!" she interrupted, but then calmed herself and dropped the frantic tone that had begun to creep its way into her voice. "No," she repeated, "you should get back ho -" she stopped herself short. There was no use in calling it home anymore. Coldocean Cove wasn't her home. Winterfell was her home the moment Olin agreed to marry her off. "Back to Coldocean and prepare for your own wedding."

He stared at her quizzically, then nodded. "Alright. Alright, I'll leave the day after your wedding, then, if that's what you want."

It wasn't what she wanted, but Ella had abandoned those dreams a long time ago.

* * *

><p>"The day before her wedding was upon her, and she didn't feel as nervous as she should have felt. Instead she just felt sad. It wasn't the same kind of sadness she'd felt before - the hopeless, desperate sadness, like she was trapped in a dark hole and no one was around to help her out, no matter how loud she cried. It was a numb sadness, like she'd felt sad all her life and she didn't quite remember how to feel anything else.<p>

"You can't sit by the window for the rest of your life," Analysa said quietly behind her.

"I can," Ella contradicted, "but I won't."

"Good," Analysa replied firmly. "I've heard of too many ladies wasting their lives away with their chin on their hand and their elbow on the windowsill, wishing for things that would never happen."

Furrowing her brow, Ella turned to look at the maidservant, bustling around the room to re-pack her possessions so they could be moved to Robb's chambers the next day. "Are you alright?" she asked. Analysa ran a hand through her hair.

"Of course I am, Milady," she responded curtly. Ella frowned.

"You're lying." Analysa didn't respond. "Tell me?"

"You wouldn't want to hear," the maid said, so quiet Ella almost didn't hear her.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it's a sad story, Milady."

Ella considered this for a moment. "I've always liked sad stories," she murmured. "Sometimes it's good to feel sad. It makes being happy feel much better."

Analysa straightened then, meeting Ella's eyes. The two shared a meaningful look, and then the maid sighed. "My mother was from further north. She was the daughter of a baker and a woman who picked flowers. She would go out every day and ride horses as long as she wanted, but then a man came to the village she lived in and thought her beautiful, and demanded her hand in marriage. She didn't want to marry him, but he offered money for her hand, more money than her father could refuse. On their way back, she tried to escape, to run off, but he caught her and put a bag over her head and carried her all the way to Winterfell." She sighed. "Every morning, my mother would make breakfast and then go to her room and sit at the window. She would watch people as they walked around, look out to the hills and forests and remember when she was young. To this day, she sits at that window and wishes for a different life." Ella searched Analysa's face, saw the sadness in her warm eyes and noticed the frown that tugged at the corners of her lips.

"That's very sad indeed," Ella agreed quietly. The maid did not tear her gaze from her. Silence fell between them.

"You remind me of her," Analysa said abruptly. Ella looked up, startled. "You're young, and free-spirited. I'd be so sad to see you waste away at a window." Ella was silent, looking down at her hands on her lap. "Lord Robb is a good man. He's very honorable, like his father. I don't think he'd like to see you spend your life at a window, either."

"Really?" Ella asked softly. Analysa nodded.

"He will let you go, I think, for as long as you need, as long as he knows that you'll come back."

* * *

><p>Analysa helped Ella into her riding dress, lacing up the heeled riding boots and clasping a fur-lined cloak around her shoulders. Ella made her way down to the courtyard, calling a stable boy to saddle up her mare.<p>

"Going for a ride?" a voice asked. Ella turned curiously.

"I am," she replied, looking Robb up and down. He was garbed in a fur-lined cloak and riding clothes. "Are you?"

"If you'll allow me to accompany you," he responded. "I was going to go on a ride by myself, but if you wouldn't mind any company, I would gladly go with you."

Ella thought a short moment. "I would like that," she decided, and gave him a firm nod. A small smile quirked the corners of his lips, and she found herself thinking that she rather liked his smile, and then she wondered if that unsettled her or not. In the end, she figured that it was a good thing.

Within moments, Robb and Ella were on their horses and galloping out of Winterfell. She followed him as he led her over the green, rolling hills, to the edge of the forest. There, he dismounted, and she followed his lead. They took the reins of their horses and continued through the forest, winding through the trees until they reached a small clearing. Ella took the reins of their horses and tied them to a low branch.

"Ella," Robb's voice was soft, "look."

She turned, and at the other edge of the clearing were a stag and two does grazing in the grass. Her eyes widened, and a dazed smile curved her lips. There were no deer in the woods surrounding Coldocean Cove - or, if there were, she had never seen them. It was a beautiful, foreign sight for her. Their fur was shaggy, and their breath rose in transparent puffs in the air.

"I've never seen…" she trailed off, voice low. A shiver crawled up her spine when he hesitantly twined his arm around her waist, grip loose and gentle, giving her space so she could pull away if she was uncomfortable. She let him guide her carefully around the tree line, as close as they could get to the deer without scaring them off.

From the new angle, she could see a fawn grazing at its mother's side, and occasionally the doe would look up from the grass to nuzzle the fawn's neck. She breathed out a chuckle, and saw her own breath become white and foggy in the cold air. Robb's arm felt strange around her. He was holding her as if he were afraid that she would break if he moved the wrong way or gripped her too tight.

Ella shifted her weight onto the other foot, but perhaps it was the wrong move; a twig snapped beneath her boot, and the deer looked up, startled, and noticed the unwelcome onlookers. She froze, but the deer were already too uncomfortable with their proximity and they scuttled off, loping through the grass and into the woods. She chuckled and slid down a tree, drawing her legs up. Robb lowered himself down next to her./p

"I think I'm beginning to like it here," she murmured, still looking out across the clearing at the spot where the deer disappeared into the trees. "It's different from my home. I thought it was unpleasant, but…" she trailed off, letting the words unsaid drift away in the breeze./p

"For that, I'm glad," Robb replied. He shifted uncomfortably. "I suppose I should make our betrothal official." She turned to looked at him with a furrowed brow. "What do you say? Will you marry me?"

Ella gave him a smile, then sighed with joking exasperation. "If I _have_ to," she drawled. Robb laughed, then stood and offered her his hand. He helped her up, and when they returned to their horses, she allowed him to take her waist and lift her onto Amia's back./p

he prospect of marrying Robb in the morning was much less daunting.

* * *

><p><strong>Hullo everyone! My goodness, I'm so overwhelmed by all the faves and reviews and alerts! I'm so thankful to everyone!<strong>

**I hope that this chapter was to your standards. Please let me know if there was anything out of character or not realistic - anything you didn't like, really. It's a bit of a challenge to write marriage before love.**

**starlight-x-A-x: Thank you! I hope this chapter was good enough. :)**

**TheSheepEnchanter2: As much as I love Jon, I just felt like Robb needed a bit of love, too. If you have ideas I'd love to hear them! Anyone who has a plot idea can PM me, I'd love to listen to what you have to say. Thank you!**

**Doppelganger13: Thanks! I'm interested to see how their relationship will develop, too! I've got a few ideas running around in my brain, all that's next is to catch them and work them out.**

**Again, a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed/faved/alerted. You're giving me the biggest ego! :P**

**I'm not so sure when I'll update next. I decided, as a gift to all you wonderful people, to update today, but I've only got chapter 3 and the beginnings of chapter 4 written so far. I'll be sure to update as soon as I can.**

**Also, before I forget - there's a smut scene in the next chapter. It's not too graphic, because I can't write anything too bold without blushing terribly, but it will be enough to bring the rating up to M. I'd like to know if you think I should keep it in or not. I'm a bit self-conscious about it, but I'll speak more on that in the next author's note.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next after this is the wedding chapter!**

**Please review and tell me what you think! A nagging little voice in my head says that perhaps this is moving a bit too quickly. Let me know what you think!**

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	3. Three

III

When Ella woke up, she wished that she could close her eyes and sleep until the day was through. Analysa made that impossible, however, when she came in very much like a bird - fluttering about the room and chirping about how the dress was absolutely lovely, and, "Oh, my Lady, you'll look so beautiful today!"

The petite little maid (literally) dragged her out of bed, sat her down on the chair in front of the vanity, and began to brush her hair and twist it into a braid. Ella's hair, much to her chagrin, was being tamable that morning and complied perfectly when Analysa began to braid a white ribbon into her hair. Then she was pulled onto her feet. Ella took the liberty of tugging her nightgown off and allowing Analysa to pull the wedding gown over her head.

It was a beautiful gown, Ella would readily admit. It was made of a thick fabric and many layers, white and beautiful embroidery in red underneath - a very subtle nod to the colors of House Reems - and a dark red gown to go over, fur lining the sleeves. She didn't think long on the fact that before the day was done, the colors of House Reems would no longer be hers. Once all the ties were tied and the train was spread out behind her, Ella took a good, long look at herself in the mirror.

"It's a shame," she whispered softly, fingering the folds of her dress. "Such a crisp white. The mud will taint it."

Analysa frowned. "Don't think like that, Milady. It's your wedding day."

"Yes," Ella responded, then seemed to snap out of her daze and offered the maid a faint smile. "It is."

She was quiet, thoughts consumed with memories of her home by the ocean, the times when she would wake up to the roll of the waves and when she would fall asleep to the caws of gulls; of the morning when she fell out of a tree whilst playing with Olin, of the night she spent awake in her room with only one candle lit, visiting with Penelope instead of going to sleep. She'd never have that again. She knew when she left that she would leave all of that behind forever, but it was only then that she was beginning to feel the full impact.

Analysa accompanied Ella to the stairs, then paused to let her go down. Ella knew what was at the foot of the stairs - her brother, waiting to take her arm and lead her out to the Godswood where she would be wed to Robb. With a soft sigh, she descended the stairs, taking Olin's arm when he offered it, and nodding mutely to acknowledge him when he called her beautiful.

She kept her head bowed as they entered the Godswood, more out of embarrassment than anything else. She was shy by nature, and every eye was boring into her at that moment. There were ladies in the crowd who were whispering excitedly, and Ella figured they were admiring her hair or fawning over her gown. There were banners raised, men coming to see their future lord wed, and there were so many people, so many eyes looking at her, judging her, appraising her. Ella felt sick.

No warmth came to her when he placed his marriage cloak around her shoulders. She was silent throughout the ceremony, nodding accordingly, and saying her words quietly. They were wed before the Heart Tree, and she felt strange kneeling and saying her words to the gods of the forest. She was raised on the Faith of the Seven, learned to say her words in the warm Sept, not on her knees in front of a crying tree.

Before she knew it, she was closing her eyes tight and Robb moved in to kiss her. Her feet moved of their own accord back to the dining hall, which had chandeliers set out for celebration. It wasn't until the dancing began that Ella came out of her stupor. She took Robb's hand when it was offered and they moved out to the dance floor.

He placed his hand on her hip, again with that hesitant gentleness, and took her hand, moving fluidly across the floor. Ella let herself indulge in the dance, for she had always enjoyed dancing when she was home in Coldocean. Her father used to let her stand on his feet when they danced during birthday celebrations. Her last birthday, Olin had swung her all around the dance floor, perhaps a bit tipsy on ale, and they laughed raucously together. This was different from then. The dance was careful, measured, and restricted, albeit graceful.

The day waned quickly. She didn't drink much ale; the drink burned her tongue and stung when it went down her throat, but Olin and many other guests seemed to be ingesting as much ale as they could. They danced with any woman that would have them, and even a few who seemed rather unenthusiastic about the prospect. Ella preferred to watch the festivities from her seat. She had danced three times during the night - once with Robb, once with Olin, and once with Bran, who was dared to do it by Arya.

Lord and Lady Stark had come to have words with them, quiet little whisperings about marriage.

"Don't worry," Catelyn had said, looking at the both of them warmly. "It'll all fall into place."

She and Robb had moved back to the head table afterwards, Ella feeling thoroughly embarrassed. She wasn't quite sure why, but she found herself avoiding everyone's eye, feeling small and meek in her dress, like a little girl playing with her mother's clothes.

She resigned herself to thinking. Ella looked at her hands, twined together and sat in her lap. Ned and Catelyn had found love in an arranged marriage, and from what she'd observed of her parents' marriage, they'd seemed to be in love as well. She hoped with all that she had that Lady Stark's words would ring true. From the short time that she'd known Robb, she'd gathered that he was honorable and kind. The possibility of children appeared in her mind, and she moved her gaze to the dance floor to think of something else, attempting to ignore the rolling in her stomach.

As the night dragged on, people began to leave, exhausted from dancing and drunk on ale. Then came the part that Ella was dreading. She knew what happened the night of the wedding, and when Robb stood and offered her his hand, she came dangerously close to gathering her skirts and sprinting out of the hall.

She took his hand anyways.

The hall was nearly clear when they ascended up the stairs, and if anyone noticed them leave, they certainly didn't acknowledge it. His grip on her hand was firm the entire way to his bedchamber. He opened the door and she obeyed the silent command to go inside, and closed her eyes when she heard the door close and lock behind her. Robb's footsteps were quiet on the floor as he came towards her.

"Ella."

She opened her eyes, braced herself, and turned to him. He was closer than she expected; she could feel the warmth radiating off of his body, his breath in her hair. Robb reached around her, gently tugging at the ties of her dress. Gathering all the courage she could muster, Ella raised her head and looked him straight in the eye, moving her hands behind her to help him untie the stays of her dress. The top layers loosened, falling in a heap at her feet, and she was left in only her shift. Her hands moved up his chest, slowly, exploring the broadness and imagining what lie underneath his clothes. Her fingers deftly unclipped the clasp of his cloak. It slid from his shoulders and fell to the floor with a dull thump. Placing his hands carefully on her hips, he began to guide them back towards the bed, lowering his head to kiss her again.

The kiss was gentle but insistent. Something inside Ella sharpened, and a gasp caught in her throat. Her hands moved again, seemingly without her control, discarding his belt and making quick work of his tunic. She toed off her shoes, and her breath grew heavy. Robb lowered her onto the bed, eyes hooded, and he kicked off his boots before climbing atop her. Ella licked her lips and closed her eyes. He picked at the hem of her under dress, and she stiffened when his hands crawled up her legs and sides and brought the last thing protecting her virtue over her head.

When she opened her eyes, Robb was tugging his pants away. Ella's eyes didn't linger long on what was revealed to her. Taking a deep breath, she shifted, opening her legs for him. One hand supported him above her, and the other moved down to take her hip. Then it slid lower, down to her thigh, and her moved her leg so it met his hip. She chewed the inside of her lip, swallowing hard. Her eyes flickered up to meet Robb's, then closed once he began to sink into her.

Her breath hitched when he stilled. He began to pull out, and she gasped.

"Don't!" she hissed, reaching out to clutch his shoulders. He stilled instantly, gazing down at her intently, examining each and every expression that flitted across her face. Licking her lips, she opened her eyes and nodded to him. Slowly, he pushed into her again, ever mindful of the way she squirmed beneath him to battle the discomfort.

When her expression started to relax, he picked up the pace just slightly. Hesitantly, she brought her legs up to cradle him between her thighs, letting her head fall back. His hand came up to her head, pulling the ribbon from her hair and tugging his hand through her braid. The discomfort began to melt away with each thrust. His breathing sped up, and a new sensation arose in her belly. It was like a pleasant hum, something strange and familiar all at once. After a moment, she began to gently push her hips against his, shy in her movements but exceedingly curious about what she felt when they pushed against each other at once.

She gasped as he groaned, chests heaving and bodies trembling, and their lips met in a kiss that was misplaced among the pleasure.

* * *

><p>Her fingers traced invisible patterns on the plane of his chest, feather-light touch sliding along his warm skin. She was curled on her side facing him, bare beneath the furs with an unfamiliar throb between her legs. She could feel a spot on the bedding beneath her, a stain where she'd bled. Ella's eyes drooped tiredly, and she was too sore (and, though she was reluctant to admit it, comfortable) to move from the bed. Robb stirred beneath her touch, and she brought her hand to a halt instantly, eyes wide.<p>

"Good morning," Robb greeted sleepily.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she asked softly. He gave her a drowsy smile.

"No." He brought his hand to hers, lightly pressing it back to his chest. "It felt nice."

Ella felt the warmth in her cheeks as her face flushed, but she resumed running her fingers over his chest. Eventually, she knew, they would have to rise from bed and face the world. She dressed herself, brushing the tangles from her hair but opting not to pull it back. From Robb's window, she could see down to the courtyard, to the horses that would soon carry the last of her family away.

Sighing softly, she accompanied Robb outside, and there the Starks met her. Olin and Lord Stark shared a few friendly words, and then Olin turned to Robb. They grabbed arms.

"Take good care of my sister," Olin said. "She's all I've got."

Robb nodded firmly, and Ella lowered her head when her brother turned to her. He reached out to her, skimming his fingers over her sleeve. She gave an involuntary sniffle, looking up at him with tears pooling in her eyes.

"I wish you didn't have to leave," she admitted. He nodded.

"I know. I'll miss you."

Ella came forward quickly, pulling Olin into her arms and burying her face into his chest. He had always been there for her - he was the one who picked her up and carried her home when she fell out of a tree and was hurt, he was the one who let her cry on his shoulder when their mother died, and again when their father passed months prior.

"Write often?"

"As long as you will."

Reluctantly, she released him, and he pressed a kiss into her hair before turning and mounting his steed. The knights began away, but Olin paused, taking one last sweeping look over his sister before galloping away. Ella let her tears fall freely, unashamed of her sadness. An arm wound around her shoulders, and she looked up into the kind face of Lady Stark. They exchanged no words, but instead Catelyn ran a hand over Ella's hair and led her inside.

The warmth of Winterfell did nothing to comfort her at first. Robb sent her a sympathetic look, but otherwise allowed Lady Stark to take her into her old bedchamber and sit her down. Ella did not object, letting Catelyn take a brush and run it through her hair and hum to her. That was when she began to feel comfort, though somehow it also served to pain her more. Robb would be her husband, his home would be her home, his siblings would be her siblings, just as his parents were to be hers.

She'd forgotten the comfort of a mother's touch, and that's what hurt her.

But the comfort Catelyn brought to her prevented Ella from objecting. Instead, she fell to tears in her hands, and Lady Catelyn put her arm around her shoulder again and simply let her cry. When Ella finally felt that she was all out of tears, Catelyn continued with her hair, braiding it and brushing it away from her eyes.

"There," she said softly, once she was done. "Now we can all see your pretty face."

Ella smiled and looked up at Catelyn through the mirror with red-rimmed eyes. "Thank you," she rasped, throat sore from sobbing. Lady Stark returned her smile.

"Of course. I knew your father as well. He would not want you to cry like this."

Then Ella stood, and before her mind could tell her not to, pulled Lady Catelyn into a hug.

* * *

><p>When Lady Stark took Ella to the courtyard again, Ella began to feel embarrassed for her tears, but when she sat with Sansa, the young Stark paid no mind to the red around her eyes, and for that, Ella was thankful. She looked out across Winterfell, at Rickon watching Bran begin archery practice with eagerness in his eyes; at Robb and the man who'd been described to her as Jon Snow instructing their brother on how to properly use a bow; at the blacksmith who looked happy at his forge, and the stable hands talking quietly to the horses as they were brushed.<p>

"Do you like Winterfell?" Sansa asked.

"Yes," Ella responded, and for once she was telling her the whole truth. Winterfell was so very different from Coldocean Cove, and for some reason, it made Ella enjoy it all the more.

"I was speaking with mother," Sansa continued. "She said that she's working on getting you a canvas and paints from the town, but she wants to get you good-quality equipment."

Ella smiled. "I shall thank your mother when I see her next."

"I finished a dress this morning," the young Stark said. "Would you like to see it?"

"I'd love to," she responded, and the two rose from their seats and began inside. To Ella's amusement, Sansa looped her arm through hers, and they continued up to her room that way. When they reached Sansa's bedchamber, the girl went forward and draped her dress across her bed, displaying it proudly.

"It's very nice," Ella told her, gently running her hand over the front and picking up the sleeves to inspect them closer. "You're very talented with stitch work, I see."

Sansa blushed, though Ella could tell that she was used to getting complimented. "Thank you."

"I was never very good at it. I must admit," Ella confessed with a chuckle, "I'm rather envious of you!" The two shared a laugh, then linked arms again and began out. "It's very nice. Perhaps one day you could show me how to stitch leaves like that."

**Huzzah, the wedding chapter! A shorter chapter today, but I promise the next ones will be longer. I would have elaborated on the wedding ceremony, but I've got really no idea how weddings go in Westeros, and I couldn't find anything about it online. I've got the beginnings of a plot in my mind, but if you have any ideas, please send them to me - I'll gladly take them into consideration!.**

**As I said in the last author's note, I'm really self-conscious about this chapter - specifically the wedding night scene. Please, review and tell me if the story would be better off without it. If it's truly as horrible as I keep telling myself it is, I'll take it out and reformat the story so the end of this chapter has something that is currently chapter four. (That made sense, I hope?)**

**I felt like everyone was out of character in this chapter. Like I said before, it's a challenge to write marriage before love. I keep getting ahead of myself and thinking about Robb and Ella in the future, so I hope they don't seem too close right now. Please review and quell my worries (or let me know if my worries are well-placed.)**

**Juh_Lupin: Thank you! I'm very wary about the way I write Robb. I feel like I need more of him in the story, but every time I go to put him in, I feel like I'm getting his character wrong.**

**anaalmeidaa: Your English is very good! I was considering not putting up the chapter for a few more days, but decided that today was a good day for another chapter.**

**elizabethpendragon: Thank you! It gets a bit dirty - as dirty as it can get, really, which isn't very dirty at all to be honest. I hope it was to your liking!**

**Lyta Padfoot: Oh, isn't she? I doubt any one of us would have any oppositions to marrying him, eh? I think she comes to realize that in the coming chapters... Hope you enjoyed!**

**ArcticGrl: Thank you! As for characterization and character development - well, I've seen a lot of OC pairings with Robb where the OC is almost exactly like Arya, which is lovely and all, but how many girls like Arya could there be in Westeros? I wanted a character who was free spirited like Arya yet graceful and ladylike like Sansa, which, in my opinion, is the perfect mix for Robb. I try to put myself in Ella's situation when I go to write dialogue and development. She's in a new place and rather shy as it is, so she's a bit quiet at first, though you'll see that change a bit as the story progresses. I hope you enjoyed! I'm always so worried that the plot is moving too quickly, so please let me know it it is.**

**Now that the story's rated M, we'll see it get a bit darker. I'll be introducing the plot (or, what little of it that I have) in just about two chapters.**

**Again, you're all giving me the biggest ego with all of these kind reviews. Never hesitate to send me constructive criticism - if it helps you enjoy the story more, I will gladly take any tips!**

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	4. Four

IV

_My dearest brother,_

_It's been only weeks since you left and already I miss you. I cannot help but feel like an intruder among the Starks. Winterfell is nice, but still I wonder how long it will be until it feels like home. Please, do write me back as soon as you can. My maid is kind and the Starks are doing well to make me feel welcome, but not yet is there anyone here who knows me as well as you. I wish I could have returned home to see your wedding. I simply wish I could return home, for any reason at all, if I am to be honest with you._

_Be sure to treat your new bride well, with kindness. Make sure that everyone in Coldocean is making her feel welcome, and give her a maid that will be open with her. I know that you will take care of her, but be sure to let her know that._

_Give Penelope my love. Tell her I miss her._

_Please write me as soon as you can. I'm impatient for your raven._

_Your loving sister,_

_Ella_

With a flutter of wings, the raven was off into the sky. She watched it for a moment as it flew away, then turned and marched back into the keep, resisting the urge to lift her skirts. It had been a month since her wedding, and she grew more homesick by the day. At night, she would lie awake staring out of the window wishing that she were back at Coldocean Cove. Then she would recall Analysa's words and turn onto her back and gaze up at the ceiling until sleep washed over her in the middle of the night.

But her life was by no means sad, and she did well to remember that.

The morning after her letter was sent, she awoke to rain. It was the thunder first that awoke her, then the steady patter of rain on the roof and the window faded into sound. For a moment she lie there, warm in her bed and calmed from listening to the sounds of the storm outside. Every monsoon season she would fall asleep to the sound of rain. It always served to soothe her. Another roll of thunder in the clouds, and there was a shift behind her.

Robb grunted in his sleep, stirring, before blinking awake and looking around sleepily. Ella half-turned to face him, giving him a soft smile.

"Good morning," she greeted quietly. Robb only grunted again, rubbing the sleep from his eyes then running a hand through his curly hair. She could hear the wind pick up outside and turned back to the window, burrowing further into the furs.

"Does the storm frighten you?" Robb asked, voice still thick with sleep.

"No," she responded. "Quite the opposite, actually."

Thunder rumbled in the sky again. "That damned thunder!" Robb cursed, covering his ears with his pillow. Ella laughed.

"Someone's grumpy this morning," she noted with a smile, then turned to him again. "Does the storm frighten _you_, Robb?"

"No," he responded sharply, and she'd never heard someone so mad at a storm before. "But it has no damn business waking me so early in the morning."

She tugged the furs higher up over him, then slipped from the warmth of the bed to peer out the window. The sun wasn't up yet, and its rays were just barely beginning to turn the sky a faint blue.

"You're right, it's early." She slipped under the furs again. "Go back to sleep."

Robb had no objections. He rolled over, furs pulled up to his chin, and his breathing steadied again. Ella remained awake, staring out of the window from her spot on the bed, cradled comfortably in the pile of furs. A few times she nearly drifted off, nuzzling into her pillow, but a groan of thunder would always manage to wake her again. Eventually, it did begin to anger her, as she was still rather tired and wouldn't say no to an extra few hours of sleep.

She turned away from the window, curling into a ball on her side and burrowed her face in the spot between her pillow and Robb's. She must have dozed off, for the next thing she knew, a clap of thunder rang in her ears and she started awake.

Ella sat up slowly, realizing that the sky outside was considerably brighter, though the thick rain clouds were blocking out any trace of the sun.

"Did the thunder wake you?" a voice asked, and she turned to see Robb starting a fire in the hearth, already dressed. She ran a hand through her hair, tangling her fingers in the thick waves.

"Yes," she responded, and then her word dragged into a yawn. She sat up in bed for a moment, watching the flames flicker to life across the room, and then stretched and slipped from the bed again, disappearing behind the changing screen to pull herself into a dress.

"I don't suppose your brothers and sisters will be too happy about the rain," she muttered, doing up the last laces on her back.

"Arya will love it," Robb said, chuckling to himself. "I'm sure she'll be quite a sight by the end of the day. A vision in mud. And I'm sure Bran will climb, unless the wind gets too strong."

They both paused for a moment, listening to the rain thicken as the wind howled past the window. "I do hope he decides not to climb," she sighed. "It sounds awfully dangerous."

"He's never fallen," Robb reminded her.

"But still. There's a first time for everything. It makes me horribly nervous to see him up there."

When she and Robb went down for breakfast, all of the Starks were present, though Ella noted that Arya and Bran looked rather unhappy about that fact. Sansa was chatting on and on about a new stitching idea she'd had, and little Rickon was soaking up stories his father was telling him about Dire Wolves.

"Can I go outside and play?" he asked once he had finished his meal.

"No," Catelyn responded firmly. "I don't want you catching a cold. You can stay inside and play with your brother." Those words were accompanied by a look in Bran's direction that clearly said 'no climbing.' Bran looked less than enthusiastic but seemed to know better than to protest.

Ella and Robb returned to their chambers after they broke their fasts. He added wood to the fire as she sat down to work on embroidery. It wasn't her favorite pastime, but it kept her busy, and she couldn't very well go out and practice archery in the pouring rain.

"I never liked rain. Not during the day," she sighed. Robb glanced back at her, then continued tending the fire.

"Is that so?" he responded, sounding interested.

"Mm. I was never allowed out. The only good thing about daytime storms was seeing the sea go wild. When it rained during the night, I would try to stay awake to listen to the thunder, but eventually it would lull me to sleep. I love rain," she repeated, "But not in the day." Robb pulled away from the hearth, settling back on his haunches and clapping his hands together to rid them of ash. "What about you?" she asked, looking up from her embroidery. "What did you do on rainy days when you were a child?"

"I would sit down with my father and watch him work."

She stopped abruptly, furrowing her brow. "You enjoyed that?"

He smiled at her. "I didn't say I enjoyed it." They chuckled a bit, and he lifted himself into a chair. "I hated being stuck indoors when there was fun to be had outside."

Ella nodded. "I was the same. When I was younger, it was my dream to swim in the ocean during the storm." She lowered her needle and thread and let her head fall back on the seat, a faint smile on her lips. "I was never allowed to. It's all for the better, I suppose; I likely would've drowned in the waves, I know that now. But then…I just wanted to swim all the time. Rain or shine, night or day."

"Swimming to you was like climbing to Bran," Robb noted, and she nodded.

"Precisely." She looked over to the window and pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, then sighed. "I miss the sea," she murmured, seeming like she was just realizing it herself. "I was so used to it, and I'd never been away from home, I never thought once about missing it. I'll admit it's been difficult for me to fall asleep at night without the sound of the waves." A faraway look fell on her face, and she looked out to the window. "The keep is on a cliff, overlooking the beach, and my room was right above the sea. Whenever it stormed the waves would crash against the cliffs below, and if I opened my window, sea spray would dowse my room." She went silent for a moment, then shook her head slightly and came back to herself. "Look at me, reminiscing like an old maid," she chuckled.

"I like to hear about your youth," Robb said before he could stop himself. Ella looked faintly surprised, but smiled.

"Then you're the first. I've told you that I'm shy, but according to every maid I've had, I can chat one's ear off so long as it's someone I know." She hummed a bit to herself. "Well, I've had my share of speaking. What about you? All I've heard about your youth is that you stayed inside when it rained and you didn't enjoy it."

He laughed. "Let me think," he began, sitting back in his seat and musing silently for a moment. "I couldn't sit a horse until I was Bran's age."

"Really?" Ella asked, and tried not to laugh.

"Really," Robb confirmed. "I knew _girls _who could ride before I. I was taunted endlessly by Theon and Jon, but eventually I learned."

"I could swim before I could walk," she said. "And when I learned how to walk, I only walked from the castle to the beach and back again. Otherwise I stayed in bed." She thought a moment. "Perhaps that's not quite the same. I was simply being stubborn."

"Or lazy," Robb put in, and they laughed.

"Or lazy," she agreed.

* * *

><p>It turned out that Ella could not resist the call of rain. She would sheepishly admit that, despite being kept inside as a child, she often sneaked outside to play in the mud and rain and usually end up sick. She did not run out into the rain and play - instead opting to sit outside beneath an overhang of roof and watch the rain - but as it happened, the youngest Stark did.<p>

Ella, bundled in her shawl and cloak, was sitting alone in the courtyard, freezing cold but miraculously dry, when Rickon ran by her, soaked to the bone. She watched him run past, eyes round with surprise. Wordlessly, she stood, and when he ran by again, she reached out into the rain and pulled him under the overhang.

"What in the world are you doing?" she asked, staring incredulously down and the young boy who was grinning up at her. "I thought your mother told you to stay inside."

"I wanted to play in the rain!" was Rickon's reply.

"How did you get away from the Maester?"

He only shrugged. Ella could remember a time when she was Rickon's age, perhaps a bit older, and there were countless ways to ditch a Septa and spend the day having fun instead, never mind the consequences.

"I hate to be the one to snitch on you, but I'm afraid you'll have to come with me."

She took his arm in a grip that was gentle but firm and lead him inside to where his mother was.

"Someone's been running in the rain," Ella said, and Lord and Lady Stark turned their attention to her - and then to the dripping boy beside her. Catelyn sighed and came forward, taking Rickon's face in her hands.

"I told you not to go out!" she chastised. "Go find Maester Luwin and have him clean you up. You're in a lot of trouble, young man."

Rickon scurried out, and Catelyn straightened to face Ella.

"Thank you," she said. Ella smiled.

"I've been out in the rain before," she said, "and I'd hate to see him get as sick as I was."

* * *

><p>"Ella." There was an insistent voice, and a gentle prodding at her back. "Ella?"<p>

She groaned, turning her head into her pillows. A chuckle, and Ella realized that it was Robb.

"Get up. You'll miss breakfast."

She only groaned again. Her head was throbbing, throat sore and dry and she had the desperate urge to sneeze. Robb was still poking at her, shaking her gently to get her to rouse. She coughed into her pillow, hand coming up to press against her head as if that might calm the pounding. Robb's hands left.

"Are you alright?" When she didn't respond, he gently took her shoulders and turned her over so she was facing up. "You look horrible."

"How very flattering," she responded dryly, voice rasping from the pain in her throat. Robb sighed.

"I'm supposing you went out in the rain, too?"

"Not _in _the rain," she defended. "Simply…near it."

"And now you're sick."

"It would seem so."

He sighed again. "You're going to be a handful, aren't you?" She chuckled, then coughed. "I'll send for your breakfast to be taken up here. Get some rest."

"Yes, mother," she joked, and he shoved her lightly before rising from the bed. He was already dressed, as he usually was when he woke her; more often then not, she awoke before him and stayed in bed until he woke up, but whenever Robb woke before her, he would dress and let her sleep until it was time to break their fasts, or until she woke up herself.

When he left, she closed her eyes, meaning to rest them, and was awoken much later by a gentle hand on her shoulder. She blinked awake, a somewhat familiar face looming above her. A few more blinks brought her vision into focus, and she could see that it was, in fact, Jon Snow who had brought her breakfast.

"Your breakfast. Lord Robb brings orders to drink the broth."

Ella chuckled, hefting herself into an upright position. "So he's ordering me around now?" She took the bowl of soup. "Thank you." Jon began away, but just as his hand reached to grab the doorknob, Ella said, "It was nice to meet you, Jon."

He froze for a moment, then turned to her and gave her a small smile. "It was nice to meet you, too." And then he left the room.

Ella was left to stare at the door after he was gone. There was something about Jon Snow, she thought, that made him seem very sad all the time. It wasn't that he was unhappy, it was just that no matter how much he smiled or laughed, something in him was still sad. Blowing gently on the broth to cool it, she let her mind wander away from Jon Snow.

* * *

><p>She had spent most of the day asleep. The only times that she had woken up were when Robb brought the Maester to check on her, and then again when he lay down to sleep. The next morning, she was better. Her head hurt less and her throat wasn't as scratchy, but still she occasionally coughed into the crook of her arm or screwed her face up to hold in a sneeze.<p>

"You should stay in bed," Robb said to her when she finished the ties of her dress.

"It's too late, I'm already dressed," she responded, then said, "If you think you can keep me cooped up in this room every day, Lord Stark, you've got another thing coming."

"I don't want you to stay in the room every day, I only want you to get better."

"I am better!" she protested.

"Your voice is still raspy," he pointed out, and she sent him a scowl.

"I said that I was better, not that I was perfect." She picked up her shawl and wrapped it tight around her shoulders. "The clouds have mostly cleared, have they not? I could enjoy some time outside."

"There's still a chill in the air," Robb said. "You should stay in."

"Then I will."

Those were the only words exchanged between them before they went down to break their fasts. As they spoke to everyone at the table, Lady Catelyn mentioned that Rickon was bedridden, having caught an illness whilst gallivanting out in the rain. Ella chuckled and shook her head.

"Poor thing," she murmured. "I'll have to see him later."

And that was exactly what she did. After breakfast, she went up to Rickon's room and sat at his bedside. He looked away from her, crossing his arms stubbornly and sticking his lower lip out in a pout. With a sigh, she picked up an unused embroidery hoop discarded on his side table, which she guessed that Lady Stark had left there the day before, and began to sew.

"Are you angry with me?" she asked.

"Yes," was his tight response.

"And why is that?"

"You told," the boy muttered bitterly, scowling at her. Ella chuckled.

"Yes, and I'm not sorry." She lowered the embroidery. "If I had let you continue, you'd be in a much worse state than you are now. Really, you should be thanking me."

She picked up the embroidery hoop again, continuing her stitch work with a snooty look on her face. It wasn't long before Rickon succumbed to laughs, and Ella let her façade fall, too, and chuckled along with him. When his laughing turned to coughs that made his body shake, her face fell and she leaned forward to brush the hair away from his face.

"You poor thing," she sighed. "This is why we listen to mother. I know it's no fun to behave, but it's much less fun when we don't, isn't it?"

With a miserable look on his face, Rickon nodded. A small smile quirked her lips. "If it makes you feel any better, I got sick, too, and I wasn't even having fun." He chuckled, and she smiled. "There we are, all happy again. Now, when your mother tells you to stay in bed, you will, won't you?"

Rickon nodded. "I will."

"Trust me," Ella told him, lowering her voice. "I learned _that one_ the hard way."

* * *

><p><strong>Hello! So, erm, here's chapter four.<strong>

**I saw The Hunger Games on Saturday, and decided to read the books. From what I've heard, the movie followed the book really closely, so I've got high hopes. Anyone got any comments? Is it true, does the Hunger Games trilogy live up to its renown?**

**Rosie-Everdeen-Potter: Thank you for your review! I actually considered for a bit having Ella find out she's got a bun in the oven, then decided that she has a lot on her plate at the moment and didn't really need that. Not right now. When there's less metaphorical food on her metaphorical plate, we'll see what I can do...**

**ArcticGrl: Thank you! No matter how much I researched weddings in Westeros, the only results I got were the Red Wedding (if you haven't read the books, heed my warning and _DO NOT_ Google this, you'll regret it!) so I was out of luck.**

**Antiki: Hullo! Your English is very good. :) Robb seems to be doing his best, and his best seems to be working so far. Thanks for your review!**

**MulishaMaiden: Oh, long(ish) review! Long(ish) reviews are my favorites! I originally wrote in Robb swooping in to comfort her, but then thought, if I'd just been married to a guy that I knew for three days and I woke up naked in bed with him, I wouldn't be so keen on a lot of physical contact (or eye contact, for that matter) for the first few days. And then I thought, well, she needs comforting, and Catelyn's been in her shoes, hasn't she?**

**Lobo de Fuego: No worries, your English is very good! Arya's lovely and all, but, like I said, how many of her can there possibly be? Besides, I don't think Robb would want to marry someone just like his sister. I, personally, would be kind of creeped. I know, right? I'd be battling my way down the aisle, but I suppose Ella's been raised a noblewoman, knowing that the day would come where she'd have to leave home and get married, but that doesn't mean she has to be happy about it. We get more interaction between Robb and Ella in this chapter, they learn a bit more about each other and their pasts, and you'll see more of that coming in later chapters, so I hope you enjoyed that. Thank you!**

**I made this chapter the best I could make it, so please let me know how you liked it. I hope you enjoyed it. As always, constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms. All of my readers and reviewers are amazing, and I thank all of you so much. You lovely people are positively grand. **

**Again, any plot ideas you're willing to share I will gladly take into consideration. I have a little 'plot' that will be introduced next chapter, but it's nothing really big. It's likely that the story will be mostly made up of little plot-like happenings, but no major, longstanding plot until we reach where the series begins. I have no idea if that will be a separate story or what, but I've got a while until I have to worry about that.**

**Also, there's a cliffhanger next chapter. Just thought I should warn you.**

**Methinks I've rambled enough for now. I'm really tired and only skimmed through this, so I'm sorry if it's riddled with errors. I'll check back in the morning and see if I missed anything. **

**Once again, everyone who's reviewed, favorited, and alerted - you're all amazing people and I thank you all so, so much!**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	5. Five

**Author's notes at the beginning AND end of the chapter, now. Fancy, eh? I've had the worst writer's block for at least a week and so I've been hesitant in putting this chapter up, but it's finally beginning to let up and I decided to update in celebration. A shorter chapter today, but I think the end might make up for it. (...or make it worse. Heh.)**

V

Ella sat with Rickon all while he was sick. It was really for the best, because it allowed Ella to get out of her bedchambers without moving around too much, and Rickon needed the company. Lady Stark joined them more often than not, to make sure that her youngest was feeling better. She would run her hand lovingly over his forehead, brushing his hair away from his eyes, and whenever she'd leave, she'd press a tender kiss to his head and tell him to rest so he could get better.

She got over her illness before Rickon did, but sat with him nonetheless, because he needed the company and, though Lady Stark came often, she still had duties to do. There were still clouds in the sky when Ella went out again, but she was told that they would not bring rain. If they did, she didn't mind - she knew now that simply sitting outside during a Northern storm was a bad idea, and wouldn't be doing so any time soon.

"There's been a deserter," Robb said, coming into the room. Ella looked up from her embroidery.

"From the Wall?"

He nodded. "Yes."

Thinking, she lowered her head, and then put her embroidery on her lap. "Will you execute him?"

"We have to," he explained, moving to sit in the chair adjacent to hers. "It's the price for deserting the Watch."

"When do you leave?" she asked.

"Once the horses are ready." He stood, moving to the changing screen and taking his cloak from where it was hanging, clipping it over his shoulders. Ella stood, too.

"I'll see you off, then," she said. Robb looked up at her, then seemed to consider her words and nodded. She draped her own cloak over herself, still wary of illness, and they took off down the hallways without a word.

He bid her goodbye at the door and she sat on a nearby bench, watching Robb, Theon, and Jon climb atop their mounts and wait for Lord Stark to come along. Robb eventually rode up near her, and she stood to speak with him, pulling her cloak tight around her arms.

"What's taking so long?" she asked, curious.

"A horse has fallen ill, they're trying to find a replacement."

"Use mine," she responded after a moment. "Amia will ride for anyone so long as they can properly sit a horse. I'll share."

He sent her a kind smile and moved away again to tell Lord Stark. Moments later, the Stark men went off, and Ella watched her pretty white mare canter away with a stranger on her back.

* * *

><p>It began to rain again when Robb was gone. The servant that had told her that the clouds would not bring rain was wrong. Thunder growled and wind howled, and Ella worried for the boys. She had caught ill simply by sitting outside, and they were out in the fields with only their cloaks to protect them. She was sure that a lifetime in the North had hardened them to the harsh weather, but still she worried. She had grown fond of them, though she never had much of a chance to interact with Jon and Theon, and did not wish illness to befall them.<p>

Sure enough, when they returned, Robb entered their room soaked to the bone and shivering violently. She leapt from her seat, embroidery falling from her lap.

"Oh, you poor thing," she cried. "Analysa, begin a fire, please. Come - get out of those clothes and I'll put out a dry set for you."

She rifled through the wardrobe, finding a thick shirt and a set of trousers for him and draped them over the top of the dressing screen. "There," she said, "change into that." When she turned back, Analysa was standing by the fireplace, a fire dancing merrily in the hearth. "Thank you, Analysa. You're dismissed." The petite maid curtsied politely and left the room.

Robb reappeared from behind the changing screen, teeth chattering. Ella moved to him and pushed against his chest. He landed with a soft thump onto the bed, and she moved the furs over him, tugging them up to his chin.

"Look at you," she sighed, tucking him in warm. "Shivering like that. One would think you'd be used to the cold by now."

"It's the rain," he explained. "It's colder than snow."

"If it were colder than snow, it would _be_ snow," she pointed out smartly, and he sent her a look that she met with a smile. "There, nice and warm. I can get some warm broth sent up if you'd like?"

Robb shook his head. "I'm not _that _cold, and I'm certainly not sick."

"Well, you certainly look _that_ cold, and I'd hope you're not getting sick. I'm not sure how fond you'd be of my company all day."

"I'm sure you're not that bad," he replied. She chuckled.

"Tell that to Analysa, and I'm sure she'll say differently."

"I'll have to get up eventually, you know. I have duties to attend to."

"Not today," she responded, standing. "You kept me in bed for a day, it's only fair that I'm allowed to keep you here for one as well."

"Ella - "

"What if you got sick? Where would we be then?" she asked with her hands on her hips.

"Exactly where we are now," he responded, chuckling, and she sighed and chuckled as well.

"At least stay in bed until you're no longer shivering," she sighed, lowering her hands to her sides.

"_Fine_," Robb whined, but gave her a smile.

* * *

><p>The rain continued through the afternoon and into the evening. After dinner, Ella and Analysa, bundled in their shawls, made their way up to hers and Robb's bedchambers. It was empty other than the fire still popping in the hearth, Robb opting to stay and talk with Jon and Theon rather than retire to bed. She changed into her nightclothes, tying her dressing gown tight around her, and sat at the vanity so Analysa could brush through her hair.<p>

"I do hope the storm passes soon," Ella sighed, staring at the window. The shutters had not been closed and she could see the raindrops pattering against the glass. "I think I prefer to see Winterfell when it's dry."

"I think you'll find Northern storms to be quite wild, Milady," Analysa replied, brushing a stubborn knot from Ella's mass of waves. "But they're always over quickly. I suspect there will be sun in the morning. There usually is."

"Hmm," was Ella's thoughtful reply. Analysa braided Ella's hair (as if her hair needed more curl) and tied it with a ribbon, then moved to close the shutters as Ella slid underneath the furs.

"Would you like the candles out, Milady?"

"Yes, please. Keep the fire going, I like it warm."

Analysa moved about the room to put out the candles, then pressed a kiss to Ella's forehead before bidding her goodnight and leaving the room.

There was only silence after the little maid left. Thunder clapped outside and made the window rattle, and wind howled past, throwing more rain against the glass. Ella shrunk into the bed, face half-buried in her pillow and furs pulled up all around her. She was glad that Robb's bed was comfortable. With the noise the storm was making, she was glad to have gotten to sleep at all, only stirring once when Robb came to bed.

But she slept fitfully.

In her dreams, she was sitting on a horse - not Amia, she vaguely noted - on a hill looking down over a field. Snow peppered the ground and she gently kicked her horse to begin down the hill. Behind her was the West, and it was dangerous. She didn't know how she knew that, but she did. The direction she was going was home, not North nor East nor South, only home.

A bird cried behind her. She turned slowly, watching a fluttering little thing, wings ablaze, settle in a tree before disappearing completely. Without wondering what it was or why it was there, she turned again and continued home. Her dream changed - she wasn't on the horse anymore, nor was she in the field. She was in a forest - the forest, she found, near Winterfell. There were hooves around her, thumping against the Earth, but she did not see any horses around. The sound was neither coming towards her nor going away from her. It was all around. She tried to move, to get up off of the ground, but her legs wouldn't budge.

Then a wolf sat before her, a monstrous beast, but it did not move to harm her. It didn't move at all. It only sat, looking at the ground by its feet. Then the wolf let out a fierce growl and a pained cry, falling in a heap on the ground. She could move then, standing on unsteady legs and moving slowly towards the wolf.

She saw, then, that there was something draped over the beast's body, a long red cloth, a banner with a white crane. She picked up the banner, only to see that the wolf's body was gone. Her attention turned back to the cloth in her hand, and she looked down in confusion at the sigil of House Reems.

A particularly loud clap of thunder startled her awake. Her eyes flew open and she stared blankly in front of her a moment as she adjusted to the dark. Calming her breaths, Ella sat up slightly and turned towards Robb. He was still asleep, splayed out on the bed like usual, mumbling softly to himself. Ella had long gotten used to that. On the night of their wedding, she'd awoken to him talking quietly in his sleep. He tossed more often than not, but despite that, he slept heavy.

Sighing to herself and running a hand over her eyes, Ella slipped out of bed and threw her shawl over her shoulders, moving over to her favorite chair and curling up, eyes glued to the jumping flames. The rain had since died down to a drizzle, but thunder still rolled in the clouds above. Something about her dream troubled her, though she was beginning to have a hard time recollecting just what it was.

She fell asleep in the chair by the fire, the memory of her family's sigil over the wolf's corpse engraved in her mind.

* * *

><p>Ella awoke to a warm hand on her arm. When she opened her eyes, it was Robb's face staring down at her, brow furrowed.<p>

"You weren't here when I went to bed," he said. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and yawning wide.

"I moved in the middle of the night," she replied. His brow furrowed further.

"Why?"

"A strange dream," she explained.

"So, naturally you'd sleep on the chair."

She chuckled. "I didn't mean to fall asleep." She rose into a sitting position, stretching her sleep stiff limbs. "I meant only to relax my mind before returning to bed, though I can see that it didn't work out so well."

Robb offered her a hand and she took it thankfully, rising from the chair. "I'm going down to breakfast. I trust you'll meet me there?"

"Of course," she responded, rifling through their wardrobe to find a dress.

"Wear something you can ride in," he said, and swept from the room before she could say anything. Ella stared at the door in confusion, and was still staring when Analysa came in, tying her hair back. She stopped abruptly when she saw her mistress's gaze on her.

"Milady?" she asked slowly, wary. Ella shook her head.

"And he says _I'm _a handful," she muttered to herself, then took her riding dress from the wardrobe and went behind the changing screen. "Help me into this, would you?"

She peeled off her nightgown and began slipping into her underclothes, raising her arms so Analysa could throw the gown over her head.

"Would it be out of my place to ask what Lord Robb said?" Analysa chuckled, obviously amused by the still-surprised expression on Ella's face.

"When he asked if I was coming to breakfast, he told me to wear something to ride in, _and left._ No explanation, nothing!" She sighed, making sure to keep her back straight so her maid could properly tie the laces of her dress.

"Perhaps he has a surprise for you," Analysa replied, lowering her voice to whisper like a gossiping old seamstress. Ella kept her resolve but said nothing.

The young maid accompanied her mistress down to the Great Hall, and Ella made her way to the high table and sat next to Robb.

"So what did you mean by wear something I can ride in?" she asked once her food had been served. Robb looked up at her, chewing on his mouthful and swallowing before answering.

"Father and I are going to take you around," he replied.

"Around?"

"Around the fields and a bit of the forest around Winterfell. You should know your way about in case something should happen," he explained. She nodded in understanding, and he stood. "Come to the courtyard when you're done. I'll get your cloak for you."

She gave him a smile as he walked away, and caught Analysa's eye to beckon her over.

"What did he say?" she asked, voice low, already knowing what Ella wished to speak to her about.

"He and Lord Stark are to take me out for a ride to show me around the fields and forests."

Analysa scrunched her nose in discontent. "Now I owe the milkmaid six coppers."

Ella's eyebrows flew upwards. "You're making bets?"

"No!" Analysa said quickly, then stopped upon seeing Ella's amused expression. "Well, yes, Milady, if I am to be honest. But they're all in good fun!"

"All bets are," Ella chuckled. "Go on with your betting, and let me know when you win."

* * *

><p>Just as she was instructed, Ella went out to the courtyard when she had finished eating, finding Robb waiting for her at the door with her cloak draped over his arm. She took the cloak and secured it around her shoulders before the two made their way outside.<p>

Lord Stark was already atop his horse, and the two others were standing nearby. Robb mounted his with no problem, but Amia was pawing at the ground agitatedly, huffing and blowing through her nose. Ella furrowed her brow, reaching to smooth her hand over the mare's snout.

"There, there," she soothed. "You haven't been properly ridden in weeks, I know."

The horse hardly stood still as Ella mounted, and could barely be contained by her reins as they rode through the gates. Robb and Lord Stark led her a good distance away from Winterfell, pointing out various landmarks and direction indicators throughout the rolling hills. Soon, Winterfell was only a silhouette against the fog in the distance, high on a hill for all to see. It was a familiar sight, not different at all to her first glimpse of Winterfell one month prior when she and her brother and the others from Coldocean Cove made their first and only journey to the North. She didn't seem to remember Winterfell looking so inviting then. Perhaps it had grown on her more than she realized.

"This log," Lord Stark said as they came to a stop, "has been turned to stone by the years. The side that grows moss points to the Kingsroad."

"And there," Robb said, pointing away, "is -" he paused, looking to Ella. She was tugging furiously on the reins, trying to get Amia to calm beneath her. "Are you alright?"

She looked distressed. "She's never done this before. She gets restless when I don't ride her enough but she should be calm by now."

The horse was snorting indignantly, pawing the ground and tossing its head frantically. The two Stark men looked worried. Ella was calling to the horse, trying to get the beast to stop moving. "Robb," Lord Stark began, beckoning his son to take action, but Robb seemed to already be thinking along the same lines. He dismounted his horse quickly, coming towards Amia. Ella took her feet from the stirrups, throwing her leg over the horse's back to Robb could help her down.

But the movement scared the horse. Amia let out an agitated whinny, rearing to kick the air. Robb backed up immediately, watching with horror. Ella cried out in shock, scrambling to grab the reins and held on for her life as the horse's hooves met the ground again, breaking into a gallop towards the forest.

Robb was on his horse again in a second, he and Lord Stark kicking their horses after the rogue beast. Ella grabbed handfuls of Amia's mane, lying low on the horse's back and trying desperately to stay astride. The forest loomed closer and before Ella knew it they were among the trees. Amia weaved through the trees and leapt logs with surprising precision, but with each movement her rider slipped lower and lower down her back.

Robb and Lord Stark were calling after her frantically, kicking their horses faster than they could run, desperate to rein in the runaway horse. Froth was beginning to form at their mouths. Nothing was slowing Amia. Branches whipped along Ella's face and she kept her eyes screwed shut, reluctant to see where the rabid beast was taking her. The only thing that she could think then was that she was confused. Amia was a docile mare. What had happened?

She whimpered, trying desperately to stay on Amia's back, but one could only ride without stirrups for so long. A log came in their path and the horse leapt.

Ella's body hit the ground with a sickening crack.

* * *

><p><strong>...heh. So, uh, how was your day? Good I hope. Probably made a bit less good by that nifty little cliffhanger right up there. Um.<strong>

**Sorry?**

**Okay, if I'm to be 100% honest, I hate this chapter. Maybe I've just read through it too much, but every time I read it I cringe. Please, please review and tell me what you think. If I'm not just being paranoid and it truly is horrible I'll take it down, just let me know.**

**Lobo de Fuego: I made arrangements to borrow the book from my friend. I'm very excited to read it! Thank you! I wanted to include a lot of them talking about their pasts, because, while they're becoming friends, they still don't know very much about each other, and it's also a good way for me to expand on Ella's character. I've got a lot of tiny details about her in my mind, and they'll be showing up periodically in the chapters to come.**

**Mulisha Maiden: Rickon needed a little attention, eh? I thought it might be best for Ella to begin bonding with the Stark children now. She's become friends with Robb, and now it's time for her to warm up to her new 'brothers and sisters.' I was excited to bring Jon in! He's one of my absolute favorite characters, and I have some ideas for him and his character in future chapters. I think the Red Wedding in the show might just kill me. D: I hope you found this chapter satisfactory! Thank you for your review!**

**crystal tomoe: Ella's a Stark now, so I think she's rather keen on trying to fit in with the family so she's not so homesick.**

**MaryWinchester: Were you expecting that? I hope you found this chapter enjoyable. I didn't, but I hope you did. Thank you for reviewing!**

**Once again, I want to express the endless amounts of love I have for everyone who reviews/favorites/alerts. Every time I see a new notification, it's just the best feeling in the world. I, personally, think that half of these chapters are utter crap, but according to you lot I'm doing something right. Please, feel free to review, and always remember that constructive criticism is more than welcome. If you have any tips or points you'd like to raise, go on ahead and say it, for I'll gladly listen to any advice or opinions or whatnot you have to give. **

**Also, I've got a tumblr, which is linked on my profile. I'm only on every now and again, but if you want to see Game of Thrones posts and me complaining about writing, (and the occasional preview for future chapters,) that's the place to be I guess.**

**Thank you for sticking with me on this. Every one of you is amazing.**

**Until next time.**

**-Rex**


	6. Six

**It's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry about that. I knew what would happen in this chapter, but for some reason it just wouldn't come out. But alas, here it is! Written and complete! I was afraid I wouldn't be able to finish, but here we are. I feel like everyone just horribly OOC in this chapter. Bleh. Well, enjoy.**

VI

Blackness, and then something fading in. There were frantic, worried voices, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. It was soft beneath her after a moment, and then there was something she couldn't place, but it made her seize up and a strangled sound came from her throat. A hand held hers in a firm grip, and for a moment she thought it was her father, because it certainly felt like his hand.

A calm voice was soothing her. She couldn't make out exact words, but it wasn't her father's voice. It was another voice, one she knew but couldn't quite place. And then the feeling overcame her and the blackness returned.

The first thing was the hurt, the throbbing, aching pain that reverberated through her body, making every bone tremble and every muscle tighten. She let out a long breath, letting her entire body relax and _feeling_ the pain, focusing on the places where it hurt most. _Shoulder, leg._

She still couldn't open her eyes because her entire body hurt too much to move even that much. She wanted to move, just to know she could, but she couldn't. She only lay there and let her pain throb, pulsing gently with her heart.

And then someone touched her and she found the strength to move, because it wasn't just touch, it was _press_, and pain went searing up her leg. She gasped and her eyes flew open, wide and wild, searching for who was touching her wound and jerking from their grasp.

"Ella!" A hand came on her uninjured shoulder and pressed her back onto the bed. It was Robb, she realized, after she let herself calm. It was Robb with his brow furrowed in worry and his touch gentle as if she might break. Her breathes came heavy.

"It's alright," another voice said, and it was Lord Stark that time at the other side of her bed. "He's only checking the dressings."

She relaxed herself, looking around the room. She was back in her bed, in Winterfell - _home,_ she nearly called it - but where was she last? The shutters were closed but there was no light behind them. What day was it? How long was she out?

"How do you feel?" Robb asked tenderly, sitting at her side.

"I'm…" she trailed off, and that was when it came to her. "Amia, where's Amia?"

"Never mind about the horse. How do you feel?" he repeated.

Ella thought for a moment. "I've felt better," she admitted, chuckling dryly. Robb offered her a small smile. "What happened?" Both men seemed hesitant to tell her, and they met eyes. Ella furrowed her brow, looking between the two. "Tell me!" she demanded.

Robb and Lord Stark kept their eyes locked for another moment, before Robb nodded just so and looked down. "The horse was rabid. An infected bite wound was found on its leg."

"Where is she now?" Ella asked tightly, almost afraid of the answer. Robb seemed reluctant to give it to her.

"The horse was caught and put to death."

She let out the breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding and looked down at her lap, at the plain silver band around her finger. She was left in Winterfell with nothing to remind her of home except for her horse and now her horse was dead. It was for the best, she supposed. Now there was nothing to keep her from being lost completely in Northern culture. How the North was so different from her little slice of the Riverlands she would never know.

"Ella?" She looked up at the sound of Robb's voice and met his eyes. "It had to be done, she would have -"

"I know," she said, didn't want to hear it from Robb's mouth that her sweet lovely mare that she had raised from a filly would have hurt someone else. "I know."

"We'll get you another," Lord Stark promised, and she offered him a small smile. She didn't want another horse, she wanted _her_ horse, but she had a feeling that Lord Stark knew that.

"Thank you," she said quietly, but it was only to be polite. He left, then, patting her hand softly, and she was beyond thankful that he reminded her of her father. It was just what she needed then. When he left, she sighed and looked to Robb, relaxing back on her pillows.

"So, what's the damage?" she asked.

"A broken leg and a dislocated shoulder."

She groaned. "Just when the weather was getting nice," she sighed. "Just my luck."

"It's just your luck that you're still alive," he told her seriously, and she nodded slightly.

"Yes, I supposed so."

There was a silence that fell between them for a moment, in which Robb shuffled closer to her and put his hand on hers. "I'm glad you're alright," he told her quietly, and there was sincerity in his voice. She smiled softly at him, and his eyes went back to her injured leg. "You need rest. Do you want me to stay with you?"

"Company would be nice, yes."

Robb stood, moving around the bed to the other side and sitting on the bit of bed that was left, pushing her slightly so she wasn't in the middle of the bed, and that made her laugh. He toed off his boots, lifting his feet onto the bed as well so he could lounge beside her.

"This isn't actually the first time I've fallen off a horse," she mused quietly, smiling to herself. "I was ten, the first time. I borrowed my brother's horse and went for a ride on the beach. The fall wasn't nearly as bad. I landed in the water, and - oh, my brother was livid. I hadn't exactly asked him before deciding to borrow his horse."

Robb chuckled. "I'd first fallen off a horse when I was six. A bale of hay broke my fall, but I got a good bump on the head. Was out for a few hours."

"I suppose that explains everything then."

He gave her a jesting look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing," she brushed off, sticking her nose in the air and looking haughty. Robb laughed.

"And I suppose your fall in the ocean explains a lot, too. Too much water stuck in your head."

Ella burst into a grin and swatted his arm. They laughed together a moment before she stifled a yawn with her hand. "I feel like I could use a nap," she said, and Robb nodded.

"That'll be the medicine working. You need rest to heal your leg. And food - I'll bring you dinner soon. The Maester says you're lucky to not have a concussion."

"Yes, yes," she grumbled, relaxing into the pillows. "Whatever you say. No idea how I'm meant to trust you when you fell off a horse. Really, who is so clumsy?"

Robb laughed. "Only me," he said, and made idle, meaningless conversation with Ella until she fell asleep. He rose from the bed, looking down at her.

There was a moment where he felt as if he should lean down and kiss her forehead as she slept, but just as he was about to it just wasn't _right,_ so he straightened and brushed his hand over hers before leaving the room again. She didn't stir once, the pain in her shoulder ebbing and the pain in her leg becoming sharp again if she tried to move.

And when she woke up again, she was alone in the room. Ella pushed herself into a sitting position, looking around, and that was when she noticed the box on the bed beside her. Curiously, she opened the box slowly, gingerly lifting the contents. There were paints of all colors, colors she hadn't seen since she'd been in the North, and beneath that were rolls of blank canvas. A smile grew on her lips.

"Ah, good. I'd told Robb to give those to you, but he said you were asleep, and I wasn't sure if you'd gotten them." Ella looked up in shock to Lady Stark standing in the doorway.

"I…these, you gave me these?"

"Yes," Catelyn replied, moving over to sit on the bed.

"I remember Sansa telling me that you wanted to buy me some paints."

Catelyn sighed. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

That made Ella chuckle. She carefully placed the canvas and paints back in the box. "Thank you," she said gratefully. "This means…this means a lot to me."

"How are you feeling?"

"Better than earlier. I've felt much better, but I've felt much worse."

"I'm glad Robb has you resting. Has someone come up with your breakfast yet?"

"Breakfast?" Ella gaped. "Last time I fell asleep, Robb said he would bring me dinner."

"You've been asleep a while," Lady Catelyn explained, then placed a gentle hand on Ella's forehead. "Good, you're free of fever."

"I had a fever?"

"A small one, but if what the Maester says is true, you should heal quickly." She stood. "I'll have breakfast sent up for you."

Ella smiled at her. "Thank you, Catelyn."

Lady Stark looked down at her for a moment, eyes shining with something Ella couldn't quite place, before she returned her smile and left. When she was alone, Ella pulled the box back to her and opened the lid, looking in. She lifted a glass of blue paint and examined it for a moment. It was a powder now, but when she added a bit of water, it would turn to paste and she could paint with it. Looking back in the box, she saw the different brushes, of all sizes with bristles in different material and shapes.

She sat up and waited for Analysa to enter, and to her relief, she came in just a moment afterwards.

"Oh, Milady!" she cried, scurrying over and peppering Ella's forehead and cheeks with kisses. "They'd told me you were awake, and I simply had to see for myself. I was so worried for you!"

"I'm fine," Ella assured, taking the little maid's petite hands in hers. "I was just waiting for you, actually."

"How can I assist you, Milady?"

Ella hesitated. "Where is Lord Robb?"

"Outside with his brothers at the archery range," Analysa replied, looking bewildered.

"Perfect." She sat up a bit more, trying to throw her legs over the side of the bed. "Help me out of this wretched bed, will you?"

"My Lady!" the maid cried, pushing her back against the pillows. "Your leg is still healing! You need rest."

"Nonsense. I've been stuck in this bed for days, first when I was sick and now with this damned leg. The only good it will do me is if I get out of it."

"Please, Milady, I insist."

Ella sighed. "No, it is _I_ who insist. Please, I must get out of this bed."

"Milady…" Analysa trailed off, looking utterly torn, but finally slumped her shoulders and pulled Ella's arm around her neck, helping her rise from her bed. "If Lord Robb catches you out of bed, don't you dare blame it on me. I'll point all my fingers at you."

"You'll say I made it out of bed with a broken leg on my own?" Ella chuckled.

"I believe it to be something Lord Robb could see you being capable of."

Ella gaped. "Really?"

"If the way he speaks about you to Lord Jon and Lord Theon is anything to go by, yes." She gasped and her hands flew to cover her mouth. "Milady! Forgive me, I've said too much."

"Nonsense," Ella replied, looking enraptured as she carefully lowered herself into her favorite chair. "You've not said enough. What does he say?"

"I shouldn't repeat it, Milady. I shouldn't have eavesdropped."

"We all do it, why should you feel any shame? And besides, as your mistress it is your duty to do as I say, and I say you must tell me what he said."

Analysa sighed. "He…" She hesitated a moment, wringing her hands and sitting on the seat across from Ella, the one that Robb usually occupied when they sat together. "You promise you won't get me in trouble?" she asked, lowering her voice a great deal.

"Of course!" Ella said. "I wouldn't ask you for information then sell you out. I'm not a Lannister." She chuckled. "But if you really feel so uneasy, you may lock the door. If Robb comes calling, we can say I'm having a bath." She paused, thinking a moment. "Now that I think about it, it's been days since I had a bath. Perhaps you could assist me? Then we wouldn't be lying."

Analysa rose from her seat and helped Ella to her feet (or, foot) and gently guided her across the room, murmuring gently to be mindful of putting pressure on her injured leg. The ratty nightdress that Ella had been changed into was discarded, and she sat on the edge of the tub as Analysa quickly fetched the warm water.

When the tub was filled, she slowly and carefully helped Ella lower herself into the water, keeping her foot propped up on the rim so to keep the wound and the dressings from getting wet. Analysa set to work dabbing washcloths in soap and rubbing the dirt from her arms.

"So, now, tell me," Ella began, "what were they saying about me?"

Analysa looked thoughtful, cleaning between Ella's fingers with intense concentration. "Only good things, I can assure you, Milady."

"Ana," Ella sighed. "I promise, what you say shall never be repeated. But, if it makes you so uncomfortable, you needn't tell me."

"No! I'm sorry, Milady." She let out a quick breath, almost like an exasperated huff aimed at herself. "Lord Theon asked what you were like at dinner last night. The way he looked at Lord Robb, I assume he meant that in a vulgar way, but Lord Robb didn't indulge him. He's too much of a gentleman. He said that you were sweet, and had the makings of a good wife, but he wasn't sure yet. But Lord Theon persisted. He asked what you were like behind closed doors. Still, I think he meant between bed sheets, but anyways, Lord Robb lowered his voice and said that you were rather a handful."

Ella looked thoughtful. "I wonder if he meant that in a good way," she murmured, then raised her voice. "Is there more?"

Analysa nodded, shaking a vial of flowery-smelling liquid into her hand and running her fingers through Ella's knotted hair. "Lord Jon said that you were kind to him, and Lord Theon replied that you must be a loose woman to be kind to the likes of him."

"I haven't gotten to know him yet," Ella said, wrinkling her nose, "but I've a feeling I won't like him much."

"Lord Theon is a bit brash sometimes, but he's very loyal." Analysa shrugged. "Lord Robb hit him." That made Ella chuckle. "He kept saying that you had a sharp tongue, which was strange because you were shy when he met you."

"I warned him," Ella sighed. "Anything else?"

"He said you were stubborn, and headstrong, and that he liked you." She chuckled, then. "And that he'd always have to keep an eye on you so you didn't get yourself into trouble. That was all I heard before I had to move to refill Lady Sansa's goblet."

Analysa pulled her fingers through Ella's hair, now free of knots, and cupped water in her hands to wash out the oil. Ella was silent, taking Robb's words (as repeated by Analysa) into consideration. "Thank you, Ana," she said after a moment, "For telling me this. You're a true friend."

Analysa's hands paused in their work. "Pardon, Milady? Friend?"

"Of course," Ella chuckled. "I hope you expect to be more than just my maid. If I can trust you, you'll likely turn into my closest confidant."

"You honor me, Milady," she said. Ella snorted.

"That, or I've cursed you to a life of endless chatter."

"Nonsense!" Analysa replied, helping Ella to stand and throwing a towel over her. "You say that as if you never close your mouth."

"I don't!"

"And yet you just let me tell you of what I heard without interrupting me once." Before Ella could protest, she continued, "Pull your hair out of the way." Ella sighed but did as she was told, pulling her dripping hair over her shoulder and wringing out the water, balancing precariously on her good leg. Analysa pulled a nightgown from her wardrobe, but Ella raised her hand to stop her.

"No. Fetch me my green dress. I think I'll wear that one today."

"Milady, you should return to bed," Analysa replied, shaking her head.

"Nonsense. I think I'll spend the day reading - in my chair. That way, I can rest and enjoy myself without sitting in that wretched bed."

"But Lord Robb - "

"Robb will have no qualms with you."

"And what if you're caught out of bed? He'll scold the both of us!"

"Then we'll have to make sure I'm not caught out of bed, now won't we?" she replied cheekily, shooting Analysa a mischievous smile. Grimacing, Analysa pulled the green dress from the wardrobe and began towards Ella, throwing her shift over her head and tying the stays.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Milady," she muttered.

"You're making too much of a fuss out of this," Ella soothed. "It's not as if I'm stealing away in the dead of night without a cloak. I'm only moving five paces from the bed to the sitting chair. Is that so bad?"

"Lord Robb tends to overreact when he's worried."

"Well, if it calms him, we'll put a blanket over my lap and prop up my leg on the footrest, if not only for looks."

"Doesn't your leg pain you, Milady?"

Ella shook her head. "Not much. It's a dull pain until I squirm. Otherwise, I don't pay it much mind. I feel almost as if I could walk."

"Don't you dare!" Analysa warned. "I'm not strong enough to pick you up off the floor, and I'm not sure how happy Lord Robb would be to stop what he's doing and come up to place you back in bed."

"Yes…I suppose I'll want to get on his good side, won't I?" Ella looked thoughtful. Analysa laughed.

"That might be a good idea."

**...yay, she's not dead!**

**But what would be the point of killing her? So early in the story, at least. We haven't even caught up with canon. When we do, whether she dies or not is for me to know and you to find out.**

**So, um, about the rabies thing: I did, in fact, do a little research on rabies in horses, and apparently it takes a week or so to set in. *frantically waves artistic license in the air***

**Just noticed I put IV on chapter five. Heh, whoops. All better now. If anyone catches something like that, feel free to let me know. I tend to be rather scatterbrained sometimes.**

**Oh, and, uh, new pen name. Yay or nay?**

**Like I said before, to me this chapter was OOC for everyone. Maybe that's just me. However, I'd be eternally grateful if you could review and let me know? I feel horribly self conscious of this chapter for whatever reason...**

**rikka21: We'll see a lot more Robb/Ella bonding now that they're becoming friends. Thanks for reviewing!\**

**BeyondTheHorizonIsHope: I just can't be kind to her, can I? Things will get better for her now that I've tortured her a bit. :P Thank you!**

**Mulisha Maiden: Ned and Ella will certainly get more bonding time, and next time, they won't have to worry about a rabid horse! Don't worry about the dream. For now, at least. That's foreshadowing for something that won't happen for quite a while yet. Ah, yes. Jon. Sweet, dear, bastardly Jon. I have something planned for him next chapter that is, I find, rather hilarious.**

**starlight-x-A-x: No worries about Ella, she's awake and fine and her leg will heal right up. Well, eventually. I do have a nasty habit of reading through my chapters and then becoming too used to them and seeing them as sub-par. D:**

**Boywiththebread: Thank you! Never fear! As much as I love Jon, to Ella, he will never be more than a brother to her. **

**I've not much to say on this chapter. I hope you enjoyed. Yet again, another round of thanks to everyone who's reviewed and favorited and alerted. You're all amazing people, and my drive to keep writing. And - guys, 50 reviews. That's half of 100. You wouldn't believe how much I freaked out when I saw that.**

**Also, before I forget, until Wednesday I'm taking questions on my Tumblr about the story. I'll answer anything you ask, even give hints about the plot further on (but I will not, however, explicitly say what will happen. For example, I can say if someone dies, but I will not say who or how or when.)**

**Until next time.**

**~Rex**


	7. Seven

**So, this is rather overdue, and for that, I'm sorry. But, er, better late than never, eh? I don't know why I had so much trouble with this chapter. I knew exactly what was going to happen in it, but it just wouldn't come out! Well, no matter, because it's here now. Enjoy!**

VII

"Hurry, Ana, hurry!" Ella urged, hopping carefully on her good leg. Analysa hurried over, carefully pulling her mistress's arm around her shoulder and helping her hobble to the bed. Ella sat quickly, pulling her legs onto the bed and tugging the furs over her, smoothing out any wrinkles that might hint that she'd been out of bed. Analysa handed Ella a book and moved back to the fire quickly, taking her sewing in her hands and continuing where she left off. Ella opened the book to a random page, pretending to be reading with rapt attention just as the door opened.

Robb stepped in, oblivious to the happenings that occurred moments before. His gaze moved from Analysa to Ella, and he seemed pleased that she was still sat in bed. A moment later, she looked up from her book, looking surprised that he was there.

"Oh, Robb," she greeted kindly, offering him an innocent smile. "I didn't hear you come in."

"What are you reading?" he asked, discarding his boots and placing them on the hearth before moving over to the bed and sitting on its edge.

She hesitated. What _was_ she reading? "Something terribly boring," she replied smoothly, but a second glance at the title etched on the cover told her that it was, in fact, one of her favorite books.

"Would you like me to fetch you something from the library?"

"Oh, no." She waved her hand dismissively. "No, thank you. I was just about to take a nap."

Robb looked distracted. "Did you change?"

"Oh! Yes, I took a bath earlier this morning."

"You shouldn't be out of bed," he said, and she held up a hand to stop him.

"Don't fret, it was only to bathe and then Analysa tucked me right back in. I'm sure you wouldn't want to come to bed when I stink, now would you?"

"You don't stink."

"No, because I took a bath."

He shook his head. "Yes, well. Maester Luwin will be up soon to change your dressings and give you your medicine. Did you have lunch yet?"

"Not yet."

"Analysa," he turned to the maid, "could you bring her lunch, please?"

She bowed her head, curtsying slightly before scurrying from the room. Robb shifted to sit more fully on the bed, taking the book from her lap where it was sitting, closed, and examined the leather cover. "_The Warlock in the West_? What's this about?"

"A Warlock who finds out he's the rightful heir to the throne of his kingdom," she said, and just as she was about to launch into a full-fledged explanation of the plot, she caught herself, remembering her lie moments before. "It's rather drab. Very unrealistic." It hurt her to say such fibs about her favorite book, but perhaps one day she could amend her lie and say that, upon finishing the book, it turned out to be a masterpiece of literature.

"Hmm." He looked at the book thoughtfully, then set it aside. "How was your day?"

"Boring," she replied. "There's not much to do when stuck in bed. I wish I could be out practicing archery."

"When your leg is healed, you can go outside as long as you'd like. Unless," he added, "you get sick again. Then I'll have to consider keeping you inside forever."

He was joking, but she gave him a hard look. "That's not funny," she proclaimed, pouting.

"Of course it is," he countered, moving over to the fire and shoving on his boots again. "You're just not laughing. I'm going to go down and get a quick lunch, but I'll join you again when I'm finished."

"And you couldn't dine with me?" Ella asked with an eyebrow cocked, not entirely sure where the words were coming from. Robb straightened, left boot half-on his foot.

"I suppose," he said after a moment, then recovered. "Of course. I'll fetch my lunch and bring it up so I can eat with you."

And so he did. Moments later, he returned with Analysa, who was balancing two trays of food on either side of her hips. Once in the room, Robb took his tray and the other was soon placed in Ella's lap.

"Oh, I forgot our drinks," he frowned just as he'd gotten settled.

"Shall I get that, Milord?" Analysa asked, and Robb shook his head and held up his hand.

"No, thank you," he replied. "You've done enough these past few days. Go ahead and relax, I'll bring the drinks."

Without another word, Robb exited the room. It was silent for a moment, but then Ella's curiosity got the best of her and she called over the little maid sitting by the fire. Analysa obliged, coming to sit at Ella's side.

"Yes, Milady?"

"What did he mean, you've done enough?"

"I've been checking your wounds for the Maester while you're asleep," she explained. Ella smiled and chuckled a bit.

"Your kindness truly knows no bounds," she laughed. Analysa's cheeks became pink with flattery.

"Well, thank you, Milady, but I was only doing my duty."

"It is the Maester's duty to check my wounds. You were being kind." When Analysa shook her head, she said, "Admit it!"

She laughed. "If I admit it, will you let it go?"

"I will."

"Then yes, I was being kind. Now, was this what you wanted to speak with me about?"

Ella shook her head. "Not originally, no. I meant to ask you for counsel."

"Anything, Milady."

"I've been thinking of asking Robb to allow me outside."

Analysa frowned. "I don't think he'll let you," she said.

"Oh, but it's worth a try, isn't it?"

"Well, I suppose. The worst he can say is no."

"Precisely!" Ella grinned. "Then I'll ask him today!"

"Ask who what?" Robb asked from the doorway, seeming distracted by the goblets he was holding. Holding back a sigh, Analysa rose from the bed and took one of the goblets, moving around again to set it on Ella's tray.

"Speak of the devil," the chuckled. "We were just talking about you."

"Saying kind things, I hope?" he asked, smiling softly and settling himself on the bed.

"Only the kindest." He began to dig in to his lunch and Ella took a sip from her goblet, thinking. "I've been meaning to ask you something."

Robb met her eyes. "You can ask me anything."

"Good." She hesitated for a moment, but there was no reason to beat around the bush. "I want to go outside."

He paused, looking up at her, and when he saw that she was completely serious, he sighed and put his fork down. "Two days ago, you were thrown off of a horse, and you expect me to allow you to move about and go outside?"

"I'll only be sitting," she replied. "Please? Fresh air should do me good."

"Your leg -"

"Doesn't hurt! Well, it does, but only if I try to move it."

"And moving it is exactly what you'll do if you go outside." He half-turned to her, balancing the tray of lunch on his lap. "In a few days, perhaps, we can move you to the sitting chair and you won't be bed-bound."

From across the room, Analysa stifled a laugh behind her hand. Robb's attention was drawn to her, and then he looked back to Ella with an incredulous look. "Have you already been out of bed?"

"To take a bath!"

"And to sit by the fire?"

"No!" But her answer was too quick, and there was no fooling Robb. He placed a hand on her arm.

"I know you hate being confined inside, but your leg must heal before you can move outside," he told her gently. She furrowed her brow in frustration.

"The chairs are only a few paces away."

"You need rest. Soon, you can get up and move over to the chairs, but until then, please, rest. The sooner you heal, the sooner you can practice archery with Bran."

She offered him a small smile. "How's he doing?"

"A bit of a slow learner," Robb admitted with a chuckle, "But he'll catch on." He gathered his things on his plate, set it off to the side, and stood. "Three weeks?" he offered. "If you can stay inside for three weeks, you can come outside. How's that sound?"

"Three weeks, hm?" she thought for a moment. "Livable," she decided. "You have a deal."

"Good." He bent to press a quick kiss to her forehead. "The Maester will be in soon."

And then he left.

* * *

><p>At first she didn't look up when she heard the door open.<p>

"I brought you some comp-"

"_Ella_!"

She looked up just in time, and Rickon came colliding into her. She grunted, the wind knocked out of her for a moment, and peeled him off of her chuckling. "Aren't we active today?" she giggled, settling him next to her. "How are you, little wolf?"

"Bran said you were going to die!" the boy cried, bouncing a little on the bed. That made Ella laugh some more.

"I'm not going to die," she soothed, smoothing her hand over his hair. Robb closed the door behind him, coming over to join them on the bed.

"He asked about you every time he saw me, so I thought I'd let him see for himself."

"I'm glad you brought him to me. I was getting quite lonely in here."

"The others will be in soon," Robb said. "Bran and Arya are eager to hear what happened. They seem to think that my account is far too dull to be true."

"It wasn't dull at all," she snorted.

"So will you tell us?" Their heads turned, attention going to Bran and Arya in the doorway.

"If you want to hear it, I suppose. I'm not sure how much I remember." The two hurried over, sitting on either side of the bed.

"That's barbaric," Sansa said, coming in behind them. "How could you ask her to retell such a horrible thing?"

But she sat on the bed nonetheless. "I don't mind, really," Ella assured. "Well," she paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. For her, it was a somewhat traumatic experience, one she'd rather not think about, but to the children, it was something exciting, a story that they'd remember and retell, and she didn't want to dishearten them. "I never suspected that she was rabid. Perhaps I should've. She was very finicky when she was saddled, but I only assumed she was eager to be ridden. She used to do that sometimes. But when we'd ridden far enough away, she was still very agitated."

"And then what?" Bran urged, bouncing eagerly. Sansa shushed him harshly, muttering about being rude.

"Robb came up to help me off. I swung my leg over to jump down, but the movement scared her and she took off into the forest. And then…" she trailed off, thinking. "I don't remember much of what comes next."

All eyes turned to Robb. "Tell us, please?" Arya begged. Robb ran a hand over her hair, thinking.

"The horse leapt over a log and Ella fell off," he said. "And there's not much more to tell. You know the rest."

The children marveled up at her. "You must be invincible," Bran murmured, prodding her bandaged leg gently. Ella winced.

"Be careful." He withdrew his hand. "I'm not invincible at all, don't you go thinking that," she chuckled, but there was a sincerity in her voice, almost a warning.

"You need rest," Robb said, standing and looking to the children crowded on the bed. "Come on. Let's leave her be."

"But we just got here!" Arya whined.

"You can come back tomorrow," Ella assured. "I'll be wanting as much company as I can get. It's ever so boring in here, and Robb is _such_ dull company!" She sighed dramatically, and the children laughed. "And," she lowered her voice, "I'm sure you'll all want to get out of lessons, won't you?"

"Where were you when I wanted to get out of lessons?" Robb frowned, lifting Arya from the bed.

"Sneaking away from my Septa, most likely," she replied, grinning mischievously at them, and then Robb ushered them out into the hallway.

"I'm going to have lunch brought up for you. Rest. I'll be back soon." And then he left as well.

Ella settled in the bed, closing her eyes and preparing for a nap. The door opened again, and she didn't think anything of it until there were footsteps pattering on the floor and someone jumped on the bed beside her.

"Ella!"

And there was Rickon again, smiling down at her. "What are you doing here, little wolf?" she chuckled.

"I snuck away from Robb," he said. "You sat with me when I was sick, I want to sit with you, too."

That made her smile. "Well, that's very kind of you. I'm just going to take a nap."

Rickon thought for a moment. "Then I'll nap, too." He climbed in beside her, boots and all, and pulled the furs all the way up to his nose, so it was only his wide, round eyes peeking out at her. "Do you think Robb will mind?"

"No," she chuckled, "as long as your boots aren't muddy."

He lifted the sheets, peering down at his feet. "No," he said. "They don't look muddy."

"Then you'll be just fine." He curled on his side and smiled at her, then his eyes drooped closed and he fell asleep.

Just before she fell asleep as well, she reached to peck a kiss on his forehead, then burrowed down in the blankets, too.

* * *

><p>Her painting was coming along nicely. She got the blue to mix with white just so to make the sky look just like it did in real life. It unnerved her slightly how difficult it was to paint the scenery around Coldcean Cove from memory, but the ocean - oh, the ocean - <em>that<em> she remembered without a problem.

"It's been three weeks."

She lifted her gaze briefly, smiling at Robb, then refocused on the canvas sitting in her lap. "Three weeks since what?"

"Since I told you that you could come outside if you stayed resting."

She beamed. "That's right, isn't it? I told you I could do it!"

"I never said you couldn't," he chuckled. "But you're not going out just yet. I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise? What is it?"

"Well, if I told you, I don't suppose it would be much of a surprise." He moved to stand behind her, peering over her shoulder at the painting and placing his hands on the back of her chair. "I'll send Jon up when it's ready. I'd come myself, but I'm afraid your surprise requires some…um, handling." He paused for a moment. "What are you painting?"

"The ocean. I used to wake up every morning to a view like this."

"Do you miss it?" His voice was soft.

"A bit." She took a moment to think. "But I like looking out the window and seeing the courtyard. Part of me prefers it over the ocean."

"I'm glad to hear that." He pressed a kiss into her hair. "Jon should be up soon. Make sure to put on a cloak before you come out. There's a chill today."

True to his word, Jon was up in her bedroom moments later. They hadn't interacted much, only speaking briefly at meals, but she hadn't seen him at all since she'd been injured. Standing carefully, she placed the unfinished painting on the seat and took his arm, and he assisted her in hobbling towards the wardrobe. Her cloak was quickly put over her shoulders, and Jon hesitantly slipped his arm under her knees and pulled her into his arms.

She was amiable as they made their way downstairs, but Jon was quiet, seeming almost embarrassed, until they reached the courtyard and he set her down carefully on a makeshift bench.

"Thank you," she smiled. "Have you any idea what this surprise is?"

"Robb would gut me if I told," Jon laughed, "but I think you'll like it."

"I'm sure you will," another voice said, and it was Lord Stark, coming up behind Jon. "I helped Robb pick it out myself."

"Pick what out?" Ella asked, and turned when Jon and Eddard motioned somewhere behind her. Her hands came up to her mouth as she gasped.

Robb held the reins of a big red gelding, leading the horse over to where Ella was sat. When they stopped, she reached up to run her hand over the horse's nose. "Who's this?"

"The stable hands have been calling him West, but it's up to you if you want to rename him."

"Oh, no, no. That's a perfect name. Oh, he's so _big! _How old is he?"

"Three years, I think. He's just begun his saddle training."

"And he's yours," Eddard added. She grinned up at him.

"This…" she trailed off, looking back at the horse and reaching up to brush her fingers through his mane. "This is the best gift I could've asked for. Thank you."

"It was the least we could do, after the…trouble with your former horse," Eddard said.

"And when your leg is healed, you can ride him. Until then, you can watch his training down by the stables."

She grinned up at the horse, then at all of the men. "Thank you," she repeated. "Thank you so much."

**So there you have it! Things are finally going uphill for Ella. **

**Is is just me, or is everyone OOC? I know I'm probably just being paranoid. I just always feel like I can never get the characters right. It's just about the most annoying thing in the world. Please review and let me know if I'm getting the characters right and just not feeling it, or if the characters really are out of character. Bleh. One of these days I'll stop being so anal about it.**

**Mulisha Maiden: Ella's very lucky I took mercy on her! Hehe. We see a bit more bonding between Robb and Ella this chapter, and there'll be more in the chapters to come. I've got a very firm grasp on how I want the plot to play out, now. Analysa's a little worrywart, isn't she? I never intended for her to be as big of a character as she is now. We'll see more of her, definitely. I think Catelyn and Ella are going to have a strong bond, but that might just be me getting ahead of myself. (I've been doing that a lot lately.) You were right! More Rickon in this chapter. Poor thing always seems to get overlooked. I had to include more of him in this chapter, I just_ had_ to.**

**I'm finally feeling like I have a firm grasp on where this story's going. I always knew, but now I'm really sure of it, and it's given me a lot of drive to write. Hopefully chapter 8 will be out soon!**

**As always, a huge thanks to everyone who's reviewed/alerted/favorited/etc. Every time I see a new review or alert or favorite it really pushes me to keep writing. Knowing that I'm doing something right is such a good feeling, you don't even understand.**

**Don't forget that constructive criticism is my best friend. If you see something I can improve on, or something that needs fixing, or any tips/suggestions, I'd love for you to let me know! I'm writing this to the best of my ability, and if you have any ideas that will make yu enjoy this story more, I'll gladly take them into consideration.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. :)**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	8. Eight

**So, I'm afraid this is a bit of a slow chapter, but if it makes you feel any better, I really think the end will make up for it. Some sort-of important notes about the story in the author's note at the end of the chapter, so make sure you read those. Enjoy!**

VIII

She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, bouncing Rickon slightly on her knee. Every so often, they'd call him over, and he'd gladly leap from her lap and scurry over to his brothers, picking up the used arrows and proudly presenting them to the boys. Then he'd go over to Ella again, climb carefully onto her lap, and watch with rapt attention and Robb and Jon taught Bran how to properly use a bow.

If she were to be honest, she'd do anything to be able to stand and join them, to show Bran how to aim and shoot, but the Maester reminded her every morning and every night that it was still a few more weeks yet before she could start walking again.

Sometimes she joined Lady Catelyn and the girls for needlepoint, and joked quietly with Arya to make the task less tedious for her. Other times, someone - usually Robb or Jon - would help her over to the corrals and she'd sit and watch the stable hands train West. The horse was growing bigger by the day, and she knew that by the time he was fully grown he'd tower over her, with long, powerful legs and a big body. He had a big appetite, always craning his neck for the carrots that the hands kept nearby, and he'd get distracted from training and try to wander over to the food instead.

Ella made sure that Robb and Jon weren't looking when she turned and hissed for Analysa to come closer. She turned to Rickon. "I'm going to the corral. Don't tell your brothers."

Analysa reached her and she stood, balancing carefully on her good leg, and the two hobbled to the corral as quickly as they could. Just as Ella hoped, West was there, trotting around and tossing his head like he knew just what a beautiful horse he was. The stable hands sighed, shaking their heads.

"Just leave 'im," one said. "He'll tire himself out eventually, and then he'll train."

Once Ella was sat down, Analysa kissed her head and scurried off, busy with other chores to do. For a while, Ella only watched West as he cantered around, until he stopped and began to graze, and she carefully stood, balancing on her good leg and leaning on the fence for support. She wanted him to come to her, but was unsure of how to call him.

"If you whistle, he'll come."

She turned, wide eyed, and watched as Theon Greyjoy came towards her. "Pardon?"

"The horse. He'll come if you whistle to him. Can you whistle?"

"Not very well," she said, and he sat beside her.

"Look." He took her hands, folding them tightly and putting them to her mouth. "Now blow."

Looking wary, she put her lips to the gap between her thumbs and blew. There was a soft whistle.

"Try again," he encouraged. "It takes a bit of practice."

She did so, and that time, the whisle was louder. West came trotting over. Laughing, she reached up to scratch behind his ears.

"There you go," Theon smiled, patting the horse's neck good-naturedly. "He likes the hand whistle best. You ever need him, just whistle. He should come."

"Thank you," she said. "How did you learn that?"

"Been helping out with the stable hands all my life. Not all horses come with a whistle, but this one does. He likes the sound of it, I think." Theon ruffled the horse's mane a bit. "They call him Sojourner West, like to give the horses pretty names, but it's just a horse, so we just call him West."

"Sojourner West," she repeated. "A pretty name indeed, but a bit long, isn't it?"

"The stable hands don't mind. They say it with pride. _Sojourner West_," he mimicked in a dreamy voice, and Ella laughed.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Coming to help the hands?"

"Robb and Jon asked me to come check on you."

She furrowed her brow. "How did they know I was here?"

"Rickon told them."

"That boy," she sighed, chuckling and shaking her head. "I told him not to tell."

"It's good he did, I suppose," Theon said. "Robb wants you to come in soon. He says you shouldn't be outside so much."

"He's a bit of a worrywart, isn't he?" she asked. He nodded, looking a bit thoughtful.

"Yes, when he cares for someone."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Ella's lips. "Then I'll come in. Care to escort me, Lord Greyjoy?" she joked. Theon laughed.

"Come on, then, Lady Stark." He swept her into his arms and she gasped, not expecting him to be quite so forward, and then she remembered Analysa's comments on him, and wondered if she should have been surprised at all. Theon brought her all the way inside, setting her down only when they reached her chambers.

"Thank you," she said, and smiled at him before opening the door and carefully stepping inside, making sure to balance herself on the doorframe so as not to put pressure on her bad leg. When the door was closed behind her, Robb came forward.

"Did you walk all the way up here?" he asked, fretting. She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek.

"No, no," she assured him, chuckling. "I'll have you know, Theon carried me all the way up here, and didn't set me down until we were right outside the door."

That calmed Robb considerably. "I worry for you," he admitted, and she smiled.

"I know. But I am taking care of myself. I promise."

He placed his hand over hers, taking it away from his cheek and kissing her palm. Then he put his arm around her carefully and led her to the bed, sitting her down. "How's your leg?" he asked.

"It feels better by the day." She looked confident for a moment, then lowered her voice and said, "but I wouldn't mind it if the Maester gave me more medicine, either."

Robb smiled. "I'll tell him. Rest, won't you? Lunch is soon, anyways. You can get up then, but please rest."

"I will. But won't you keep me company? Analysa's doing chores and if I'm left alone I'm bound to get up at some point."

"I'll stay," he replied, and sat next to her. "You're very stubborn, you know."

"Am I?" she responded dryly, sending him a teasing smile. "I hadn't noticed."

"And sarcastic, too."

"Not always," she chuckled. "Only when you state the obvious."

"And do I do that a lot?"

"If you'd always pointed out the obvious, I'd have clonked you over the head by now."

In their jest, they hadn't noticed how close they'd become. She was turned slightly on her side to face him but still mindful of her leg. He was turned completely to her, and they were only inches apart. Whatever could have come next was interrupted by a groan from Ella's stomach. She put a hand over her belly, looking down, and they chuckled.

"I take it you're hungry, then?" he grinned.

"Very," she replied.

"Do you want to take lunch in bed today?"

She thought for a moment. "Let's eat in the hall, with your family. It's more enjoyable there."

He smiled at that, getting up and moving around the bed to sweep her into his arms, and she laughed. "I don't think I'll ever get used to being carried everywhere."

"Good," he replied roughly, but grinned at her. He toed the door open. "Because once you can walk, I'm never carrying you again."

"Oh?" She returned his smile. "Not even when we're old and shriveled and I can barely walk?"

"Not even then!"

"Well, I'm just the _luckiest_ lady in the Seven Kingdoms to have a husband like you, aren't I?"

"Indeed you are!" And then he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

When they reached the hall, it was Bran, Sansa, and Jon eating, the others off playing or attending to duties. Robb set her down at the table and took a seat next to her. They ate with smiles, chatting with the others and it wasn't until Bran and Sansa were arguing over something silly that Ella realized she was beginning to feel at home in Winterfell. There wasn't a sad reminder of Coldocean Cove around every corner. She didn't think as often of her younger days, and even the painting of the ocean had been abandoned on Robb's desk, a canvas with a half-done painting of a wolf in its place on the easel.

Eventually Robb, laughing, had to come between the two, reminding them how trivial their quarrel was and they all went back to eating. It wasn't long before she was pulled out of her thoughts.

"How do you like your horse?" Bran asked. She smiled.

"He's lovely. I can't wait to ride him."

"When can you ride again?"

She thought for a moment, not quite sure herself. "Whenever my leg is healed, I suppose." She turned to Robb. "After we eat, will you take me to see the Maester, please?"

He nodded. "What for?"

"I want to know when I'll be walking again."

"It'll be soon, I'm sure."

And soon it was. Two weeks after, she was limping carefully across her chambers, under the watchful eye of Maester Luwin. "You're coming along very well, Milady," he said.

"When will it be until I can ride?" She lowered herself into her chair, lifting her dress to her knee so Analya could kneel and loosely lace up her boots.

"Oh, I would give it some time. Your leg is still healing. If you're not careful, you'll only hurt yourself further." He moved to pat her hand gently, then straightened and began out. "That will be all for today. Take it easy on that leg, Milady."

"Thank you, Maester." And then he left. Analysa took Ella's arm and together, the two made their way down to the corrals, and there was West, tossing his head like usual and trotting in circles.

"He's a proud beast, ain't he?" Analysa chuckled. "I think you'll like him. Gareth says he's a real good horse, even if he struts."

Ella's curiosity peaked. "Gareth?" She knew when she was on to something when Analysa blushed and looked away.

"My - erm, friend. My friend."

"A _friend_?" She raised an eyebrow. "Only a friend?"

"Yes!" she replied, but too quickly. Ella giggled and prodded Analysa in the side.

"Come now, tell me! If I can confide in you, you can confide in me."

It took a moment for Analysa to turn back, but then she did, nibbling on her bottom lip. "Well, I've liked him for a while. I think he likes me too, since he smiles at me all the time, and every time I come around, he puts his work aside to talk to me." She sighed. "He asked me to meet him once, in the town, but I had duties to attend to…"

Ella thought a moment. "I can settle myself in bed tonight," she said. "Take him up his offer on meeting in the town."

"Oh, no, Milady," Analysa replied, shaking her head. "No, I couldn't shirk duties for something trivial."

"Nonsense." Ella waved away the thought. "I'm a big girl, I can change my clothes and brush my hair. And if neither Robb nor I can figure out how to put out a candle, we'll just sleep with the lights on." Analysa chuckled at that, and Ella seemed pleased that she was able to get a laugh out of her. "Now, tell me about the boy who's captured your eye."

"Well, he's not so much of a boy anymore. He's the black haired one, skinny and tall. Maybe not the most handsome boy I've seen, but he certainly isn't ugly. And he's nice, and he makes me laugh, and…oh, Ella, I just like him so much!"

She smiled, chuckling and listening as Analysa raved about Gareth, and it was clear that it was more than admiration that the young maid was sporting for the stable hand.

* * *

><p>"You know, I can't thank you enough for your gift." She came out from behind the modesty screen, pulled her hair over her shoulder and let Robb tie the laces of her night dress.<p>

"Don't thank me," he replied. "It was my father's idea. It's he who should be thanked."

"So I'll thank him then."

She moved over to the bed, pulling on the new linens and setting out the furs. Analysa was off in the winter town somewhere with the stable hand, enjoying herself. She hadn't had time earlier that day to fix the bed linens, but Ella paid it no mind. Robb gave her a curious look as she moved around their bed.

"You don't have to do that, you know. The maids do it just fine."

"I know," she sang, moving around the bed to pull the linens tight. "When I was young, every time the bed linens were washed, my mother would dismiss the maids and help me and my brother make our beds. She told us that learning to do little things by ourselves would do us only good." She paused for a moment, smoothing out the wrinkles and unfolding the duvet. "After she died I…I let the maids do the work. Until one night I came to speak with Olin, and when I walked in, he was making his bed. Every night since then, I've made my own bed. Here…I've begun to feel so lost in Northern culture. It's lovely, but I need a little reminder of home. It was Amia, at first. Now it can be making the bed."

The pair blew out the candles and slid under the covers together, turning on their sides to face each other.

"My mother never had us do something like that," he said. "Though sometimes she'd make me watch my brothers and sisters. I never minded that very much."

She hummed a bit to herself. "What's it like to have brothers and sisters? Ones that are younger than you? I've only ever had Olin. He's looked after me all my life, I could never imagine having to look after someone as well."

"I don't know," Robb replied after a moment. "I've never known any different. Sometimes it was a chore, looking after them without Maester Luwin or Septa Mordane or Old Nan, but often I ended up enjoying it. Especially if Theon and Jon were there to help. We would play games, chase each other around the courtyard, watch the little ones in the corner."

"They didn't play with you?"

"Sometimes they weren't old enough to play. Sometimes Sansa didn't want to. But I remember a time or two where she willingly joined in the fun and got dirty."

"Sansa? Getting dirty?" She chuckled. "I could never imagine something like that." Ella moved only a little closer to Robb, pulling the covers up to her chin. "Do you still play with them?"

"Not often," he said. "Usually I'm too busy with duties, but sometimes we can all escape from chores for the day and we'll all go riding."

"Will you promise me something?"

Robb's eyes met hers. "Anything."

"Next time you all get out of Winterfell, take me with you."

"Of course," he chuckled. "Did you expect us to leave you here while we left to have fun?"

"Well, no." A blush colored her cheeks, almost hidden in the dim light of the fire. "I just wanted to make sure I was welcome to come along."

"They've taken to you well, you know."

"Have they?"

Robb nodded. "Arya and Sansa like you. Rickon _loves_ you."

"And Bran?"

"He doesn't mention you much, but I think he'd have told me if he didn't like you."

"I'm glad for that," she said. "I noticed, today…"

He furrowed his brow. "Noticed what?"

"I noticed that Winterfell feels like home now."

"I'm glad," he said.

"So am I."

And she was, glad that Winterfell wasn't a stranger to her any more. It was inviting, and it made her feel just as safe as she'd felt at Coldocean Cove. There were times, times that were few and far-between, where she missed the sound of Olin laughing, felt empty without his pleasant chatter with the servants, but then the sound of children giggling would meet her ears, then she'd see the Starks and all their children, and even Jon and Theon and she felt like she had more of a family than ever.

It was such a long time since she'd had a mother and she had one now, lovely Catelyn to talk to and confide in. And there was Eddard, whom she'd just begun to know well, to fill the fresh hole her father's death had left in her. And all the children, all the sweet, happy children and they were more than enough to compensate for Olin's absence. And she realized that Winterfell made her feel more complete than Coldocean Cove ever had. Something in her lamented at that, at the loss of Coldocean Cove. It was still with her, inside her, but it wasn't as close to her heart as it had been when she was younger. The Starks of Winterfell had made sure of that.

They had replaced the rush and roll of the ocean with something so purely Northern, something she couldn't explain but let her know she'd never be the same again.

Wordlessly, she and Robb moved together. She turned to curl against him and he pulled an arm around her, and they were surprised with how right it felt. It was still measured, careful, full of the lingering awkwardness that was there since they'd met. But still it was right, somehow. Not perfect, but in no way wrong. Not wrong at all.

And it was comfortable. Eventually, without their noticing, rain began to patter outside the window, interrupted only occasionally by the low hum of thunder. Their breathing slowed and Ella relaxed in his arms, and the embrace became less unsure.

She'd fallen asleep there, with her head on his chest, and he just let her, running his fingers through her hair and watching the fire die slowly as his eyes drooped closed. He thought, just before he fell asleep, that that was where he liked her most.

When morning came, she was still there, head nestled in the crook of his shoulder. He'd woken when she stirred, and, still dazed and sleepy, they met eyes, and then slowly, taking their time, moved to press their lips together.

**See, what did I say? An ending that made up for a slower chapter.**

**And if you didn't get it - they did, in fact, kiss. Which is kind of a big thing for them, considering the only other time they kissed was because they had to. And, and, well, there was that time the night of their wedding...**

**Moving on!**

**Pretty soon we'll be approaching a 'one step forward, two steps back' scenario in the story. I mapped it out, and as it turns out, it'll be about seven more chapters until we start going into the series/book. I'll go through season 1/AGoT and season 2/ACoK with a few little changes. Either during or after season 2/ACoK, we'll drift into AU. Afterwards, there will still be some events from in the books, but a lot will be changed. Since the tv series is also changing plotlines from the book, and that's my main source material, it'll all just sort of be mashed together. **

**In the next few days I'll be going through previous chapters and editing them for spelling and grammar and whatnot. Just thought I'd give a heads-up.**

**Maxmercury1000: Like I said above, it will follow through canon and eventually drift into AU. I'll put that in the description. Chapter 1 takes place a few months before canon starts, and we're working our way up to season 1/AGoT.**

**Elle: Thank you very much! It's a challenge, but somehow, I manage. Ella and Robb have been waiting to do anything other than sleep in their bed. Before this chapter they had accomplished a common close-friend relationship, and now we're seeing things progress more, what with their kiss and all. In a few chapters...well, just wait for a few chapters. I don't want to give anything away (even though I kind of already am,) but...well, just wait a few chapters. ;)**

**Go check out the poll on my page. It's very important!**

**As always, thank you all so much for reading, for reviewing and adding this story to your alerts and adding both me and this story to your favorites. I serio****usly have so much love for all of you. You're my drive to keep writing. Never hesitate to give me and constructive criticism. If you think I can improve on something, no matter what it is, feel free to let me know. Your reviews are what remind me that I'm not wasting time writing this.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	9. Nine

**A/N: Uh...don't hate me too much? I know, it's been two months (way too long) since I updated last. I'm extremely sorry! But we're back, and good to go. Enjoy!**

IX

When they pulled apart, she only gave him a drowsy smile and relaxed against his chest again, and he only tightened his arms around her. They were too comfortable to get up, nearly falling asleep again before there was a knock on their door. There was still rain tapping at their window, lulling them, and they were slow to get up.

It felt to them like something should have been awkward but it just wasn't. There wasn't an uncomfortable presence between them like they'd expected. If anything, there was something closer between them, something more personal that hadn't been there before.

The knock came pounding at their door again. "Will you two lovebirds put some clothes on and answer the door?" It was Theon. They could hear the smirk in his voice, teasing them, and they only rolled their eyes at him. They got up and dressed, and when they opened the door to greet him, he was gone. But he was in the hall when they arrived, breaking his fast with all the others.

They sat with the family, filling their plates and once Ella was full she realized how satisfied she felt with her new home.

And then, "I'll be leaving for a month," Ned began, chewing thoughtfully on his food. "Jon Umber's second son is marrying and they request my presence."

"When do you leave?" Robb asked.

"In two days' time," Ned replied.

"Can we go?" Bran asked, looking up from his plate. Ned considered this for a moment, looked to Catelyn, then back at Bran.

"If you wish to, I don't see why not."

Bran gave him a big smile, leaping from the bench, quickly shouting, "I'm done!" before scurrying off somewhere.

Before long, it was Robb and Ella leaving, too, on a leisurely walk through the corridors back to their chambers. She had her arm looped through his, head cocked to the side in thought.

"Where to the Umbers live?" she asked suddenly. Robb looked to her.

"The Last Hearth. It's a stronghold further North. Musty old place. It's isn't pleasant."

"Then I pity your father."

Robb chuckled. "My father's tough. He can handle the Last Hearth, and all the Umbers, too."

"Are the Umbers…" Ella trailed off, her question lingering in the air.

"They're…grisly. But loyal," Robb answered. Ella hummed, nodding her head.

"I see." It was a moment of silence before she spoke again. "I think I'd like to see more of the North."

"You will," Robb promised. He paused for a moment. "I don't know when, but you will. It's a Lady's duty to know the lands she governs."

"Sometimes it's startling how different the North is. I'd never traveled before I came here. And every time I think I'm used to the North, it surprises me again."

"Good surprises?"

Ella laughed. "Yes, I think I'd say that they're good surprises. Different, perhaps, but good nonetheless."

"And you'd never traveled before, you said?"

She nodded. "Right. I've never really had a reason to. My father wasn't on good terms with his sister, and his brother is a cripple, so he lived with us. My mother was very close to her brother, but he always came to visit us. And it's a shame, I suppose. I'd always wanted to see Seagard."

* * *

><p>Ella eventually found herself out in the stables, taking a brush to West's coat. It was a job any servant could do, but she'd always enjoyed spending time with her horses. The young horse was nearly finished with his training and she was excited to ride him. As she brushed him, it wasn't difficult for her to notice the sad feeling settling in the pit of her stomach, and she knew why.<p>

It was her other horse, her white mare, the one who had died. That horse was the last thing she'd had of Coldocean, of her home. For a moment, just the shortest of moments, Ella allowed herself to close her eyes and run her hand over West's back and pretend he was Amia. She imagined she was in the stables back home, that the air was warmer and there was sea salt in the breeze. It didn't occur to her once how foolish she might look, running the brush reverently over the horse's flank with her eyes closed and a soft, sad smile on her face.

Some days, she could forget about Coldocean Cove and ever living there. Other days, the homesickness was crippling, the ache in her chest begging for her brother's laugh or her uncle's smile too much to bear.

Shaking her head, Ella composed herself and set the brush aside, guiding West into his bridle and reins and leading him out to the corral. She knew that it would not do to dwell on homesickness. She wouldn't cry and weep over her marriage. She wouldn't sit by the window and waste away, wallowing in sadness and self-pity, no matter how it called to her. She'd made a promise not to do that, and it was a promise she was keen on keeping.

Sometimes she thought herself ridiculous. It had been months since she'd been married, and still she caught herself sighing wistfully at memories of Coldocean. _No_, she thought firmly. She wouldn't let herself spend her life daydreaming like that. She'd fall in love with Robb some day, and have children, and be Lady of Winterfell.

She remembered when she came to Winterfell, making a silent promise to herself that her marriage to Robb would be the last choice anyone ever made for her, the last choice that she wouldn't make for herself. _This, _she thought, _this is _my_ choice. To leave Coldocean Cove behind me._

Spending time with West, she found, brought a smile to her face. As tall and hefty as the gelding was, he was gentle and playful and if she took off sprinting to the other side of the corral, he'd whinny happily and was quick to follow.

She supposed, later, that she might've looked childish running around with the horse, laughing and hopping, running this way and that, but that was how she acted at Coldocean Cove, and now that Winterfell was her home, she saw fit to act as such here, too. Sometimes, very quietly to herself, she would think, _I'm still a child, I can still do childish things sometimes_. Oh, if she'd ever said that to her Septa, the old bat would've ranted to her on and on about how she was flowered, a grown woman. She was only sixteen, and she wasn't sure if she'd call herself a grown woman, but even so, Ella didn't see the problem with grown women being silly sometimes. She had a very vivid memory of a family picnic down by the beach once when she was small. The afternoon was warm but none of them had brought anything to swim in. Her mother, in her pretty gown - long and green and full with skirts - had grinned wide and raced out into the water, standing against the waves and she spent the rest of the picnic sopping wet.

Eventually, she gave a long sigh and collapsed onto the ground, splayed out on the grass with her chest heaving, and she chuckled breathlessly when West trotted over and nickered in her face. She smiled, gently swatting his nose away, and sat up. Her hair was tangled when she ran her hand through it, and she was glad that she was wearing a casual dress that day, for it was stained from the grass all over. The sun was beginning to set and her stomach was growling, so she returned West to the stables and kissed his nose before she left.

Robb was reading when she returned to their chambers, and he stared at her for a moment before he let out a chuckle.

"I didn't know brushing your horse entailed…" He motioned to all of her, "_this._"

Scowling and moving forward, she lightly hit his shoulder, before picking a clean dress from the wardrobe and moving behind the privacy screen to change.

"I decided to play with West, to get to know him better."

"And how does one play with a horse?"

She paused, raising onto her toes to peek over the top of the privacy screen. "You've never played with a horse before?"

He shook his head. "Only ridden one."

"Well then," she began, dropping back onto the flat of her foot and tying the stays of her dress, "we'll have to rectify those wrongs."

Robb chuckled, setting his book aside. Ella went to sit by the vanity, taking a brush and pulling it through her hair. "You know," she said casually, "I never took you for one to read."

"Should I be offended?"

Ella laughed. "I didn't mean it like that. I only meant…well, you never struck me as the bookish sort."

Robb shrugged and went over to her. "I suppose I'm not." He ran his fingers through her hair. "Does playing with horses require rolling on the ground? There's grass all over you."

Ella blushed pink, quickening her pace with her hair brush. "I was tired," she defended. Robb cracked a smile.

"So you decided to roll around on the ground?"

She turned and swatted him with her hair brush. "I wasn't rolling around!" she laughed. "I was only lying there, I didn't realize this much grass would get on me."

"Oh, I see. You expected to lie on the ground and get up spotless."

She sighed, standing and poking his chest. "You're intolerable," she said, but there was a laugh in her voice and a smile on her lips. "If I have to live with you my entire life, I might just go mad. Or sew your mouth shut."

"You wouldn't!" he challenged. As she opened the door, she threw him a mischievous look.

"Try me."

* * *

><p>After breakfast the next day, Robb and Ella had gone their separate ways. Ella had retired to their chambers with Analysa, and the girls spent their time working on needlework. To say it more appropriately, Analysa was sewing, and Ella was watching on with little interest, letting her mind wander. She and the maid spoke idly about random things, anything they could think of, but admittedly, it wasn't much.<p>

Before long, Ella found herself sagging with boredom, and decided she'd head out in search of Robb, hoping that he wasn't busy and could entertain her. Perhaps it was a selfish thought, but he was her husband, and as her husband, it was his duty to keep her from being bored. Of all the vows said during their wedding, surely that was one of them.

She searched through the castle, and ended up deviating from her original task of finding Robb. She'd never truly explored Winterfell, only gone where she needed to go, and the winding corridors intrigued her. Winterfell was an ancient place, and as she wandered, she saw several places where the stones of the walls changed, where the castle had been expanded.

Eventually, she began absently trailing her hand along the wall, lost in her thoughts and in an empty corridor. And then her hand slipped.

She stopped in her tracks, looking curiously at the wall. Her hand had slipped as if around a bend, but there was a tapestry covering the wall. Looking both ways down the corridor to see if anyone was coming, she hesitantly pulled the tapestry aside, there was a small indent there, hiding a door. Curious, she tried the door knob, and with a little persuasion, the door swung open with a loud creak. She cringed, looking down the hall again to make sure she was alone. She peeked around the door, only to see a staircase leading down into a long, dark tunnel. Closing the door and setting the tapestry right, she made a note of her location and continued on.

She wasn't sure how long she was wandering around the castle, but she found herself lost multiple times before finding herself on the path to the courtyard. She was outside, soon enough, and looked around her. Jon was near the archery equipment, placing the arrows back in their spots. She brightened and went to him.

"Good morning!" she greeted, and Jon looked up, surprised.

"Oh," he began. "Good morning."

"I hope I'm not interrupting," she began, but Jon quelled her worries by giving her a friendly smile, which she readily returned. "I only wanted to ask if you'd seen Robb? I can't seem to find him anywhere."

"He left just a moment ago for the Godswood," he replied, and they parted ways soon after. Something about the Godswood made Ella nervous. Perhaps it was that the first and only time she'd been there was for her wedding, but a part of her was urging her to turn back, to wait for Robb, for the Godswood was Northern and she was not of the North.

But she continued on anyways, slowed when she went through the gates, and paused at the opening of the clearing. Robb seemed to noticed her after a moment, and she came forward slowly, shyly. He saw her trepidation and gave her a warm smile, beckoning her to sit next to him on a log near the pond. She came to him, sat next to him, and looked at her hands, folded in her lap.

"It's strange to be here," she admitted, voice soft. She looked to him. "Was I interrupting you?"

"No," he assured. "I was only thinking."

"Important thoughts?"

"Trivial things," he shrugged. "Did you need something?"

"Only to find you," she replied. "I don't think I could stand another moment of needlepoint."

He chuckled. "So you only needed me to entertain you?"

"More or less," she grinned, knocking her shoulder against his. They met eyes and there was a moment they spent just smiling at each other, and though the Godswood was cold Ella found herself warming in his presence. She could feel the faint blush on her cheeks, but she was comfortable.

A curious thought occurred to her. "Were you praying, Robb?" she asked.

"Earlier, I was. You didn't interrupt me."

There was another pause, before she continued. "I think I might begin to pray in the Godswood."

"You don't have to. My father built a Sept for my mother so she may pray."

Ella shook her head. "If I am to say my wedding vows kneeled beneath the Heart Tree, that is where I shall pray."

Robb seemed hesitant to say what came next. "One mustn't pray to the Seven at the Heart Tree."

"Then I will not pray to them."

He knew what she meant, and gave her a look. "You would do that?"

"I am a Stark now. Starks are of the North, and they pray to the Old Gods."

"You needn't."

"But I will." Her voice was soft, but it was firm, and Robb knew that she was steadfast in her decision. He only wanted to be sure she did not feel obligated to change religion because of their marriage. Something, though, about her choice made him want to bury her in a hug. Instead, he gave her a smile and took her hand in his.

They twined their hands together and rose as one, strolling out of the Godswood.

**A/N: So, I won't even try to deny that this chapter was a filler. You'll see why next chapter, I promise.**

**I have no idea when Chapter 10 will be out. Hopefully soon. I'll get working on it right away. **

**I've gone and made some changes to Chapter 3 - go check it out!**

**Maybe it's just because I'm terribly self-conscious about my writing, but I feel like I can never get Robb's character just right. If you could tell me what you think I'd be eternally grateful!**

**Rikka21: Oh, I'm itching to write that scene! I've written loads of scenes that happen a looong time from this chapter (though Grey Wind should appear in chapter 16, if my calculations are correct...) but I'm trying to refrain from writing that scene until I get to it.**

**tWiStEd KiNgDoM: *flails a little* Thank you very much! I put a lot of time and effort into my writing because I'm so fretful about it and I want to make sure people enjoy it. I'm glad you like it!**

**KatAngel16: Thank you! I try to put myself in Ella's shoes - if I were in her situation, how would I react? And then I work off of that. It's a challenge, I'll admit, but one I'm willing to undertake.**

**As always, a massive thank-you and a million hugs and kisses to everyone who's reviewed, everyone who's favorited, and everyone who's added this to their alerts. It really means the world to me! **

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	10. Ten

**A/N: I'm not even going to pretend that this isn't super late. I'm reeeeeeally sorry, though! This chapter seems a bit filler-y, but I promise we're getting to the good stuff. (Psst, friendly reminder that we'll probably be reaching the start of the series in chapter 13.) Enjoy!**

X

The next morning, the entire family had gathered in the courtyard to see off Ned and Bran and the rest of their envoy. Robb and Ella had spent more of their time together; she'd whisked him off, curious, to the hallway behind the tapestry, and they'd spent an entire day exploring, only to find a pathway to the hot springs below the castle. There, they'd sat and talked, and took of their boots and waded in the cooler of the hot springs until their toes were wrinkled.

Another day, Ella had dragged him to the stables, made him run with the horses, until finally he grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him, and they ran around the corral like children until they were breathless and flushed from the cold. They'd shared a kiss, the first since that evening before they fell asleep, and scurried inside to warm themselves by the fire.

Inside, they'd draped a quilt over themselves and leaned against the fronts of their chairs, visiting with each other until they fell asleep where they sat. The next morning, they awoke to sore limbs and smiled at each other, laughing at their foolishness.

Before long, Ned and Bran and all the others had returned, and snow had begun to fall in place of rain. Winterfell became abuzz with preparations. It was Bran's name day, and of course, a name day in Winterfell called for a celebration. Food was being gathered for the feast, the dining hall was being decorated. It was nothing too fancy, but it was a party, and Ella found that the people of the North indulged in celebrations. She supposed that she couldn't blame them. The North was full of juicy meat and strong ale.

Ella had never properly been in snow before, only during the last Winter so long ago when she was a small girl. She could hardly remember snow, only looking out from her window and seeing only white, before her mother pulled her away and sat her by the fire again. And though she'd looked forward to bundling up and spending time outside, as they broke their fast one morning, Catelyn had asked her if she'd like to observe her as she made preparations, and it wasn't an offer Ella was quite ready to refuse.

It didn't take long for her bored. She didn't know how Catelyn could stand it, just standing and watching as people went to and fro, carrying things and setting things out. Ella couldn't stand it. She wasn't made for such mundane tasks, and thought to herself that she'd rather be helping the servants with…well, with whatever they were doing - she wasn't quite sure. She leaned against the table, rubbing her eyes. If she was to be the next Lady of Winterfell, the North was surely doomed.

And then she found her window of opportunity. Catelyn had stepped away a moment and was thoroughly inspecting a few candles. Ella began to back away slowly, keeping her feet light and lifting her dress just enough so the hem wouldn't drag on the floor. She kept her eyes trained on Catelyn, feeling a thrill rise in her chest that she hadn't felt since she was a child escaping her Septa. It brought a smile to her face, and once she reached the door, she twisted and scurried away, finding that she didn't particularly care if Catelyn heard.

She hurried to her room, pulled her gloves and her warmest cloak from inside the wardrobe, and threw them on. After a moment of thought, she crossed over to the window, and the sight of little white flurries fluttering past the window made her smile. That was the sight she'd woken up to that morning. She'd opened her eyes and sat up groggily, and Robb, sat beside her, chuckled and said, "Good morning, Lady Stark. It's snowing outside."

When she was outside, she was glad for the warmth of the fur lining her cloak and gloves, and thought to herself that she must remember to thank Analysa for setting out her warmest dress. The air was bitter and there was a freezing breeze, but somehow it made it all the better. Somehow it made her feel…_alive_. The cold was shocking and sudden compared to the warmth of the keep. She didn't think she'd ever been so cold in her life, but it wasn't an unpleasant chill.

She stooped to scoop some snow into her hand, moving her thumb around in it. She wanted to feel it, but knew better than to plunge her bare hand into snow. Robb had told her of men who'd had whole limbs sawed off because of the cold, and she made sure to keep her gloves firmly around her fingers.

"Arya!" someone shrieked, and _of course_, Ella thought, _I should have known it would be Sansa_. Arya was doubled over with laughter, and Sansa was red in the face from anger, bits of snow on her eyelashes. "That wasn't funny!" she cried, wiping her face dry with her sleeves.

"So get her back!" Bran urged, holding a fistful of snow to her. Sansa gave him a look.

"Revenge!" Rickon yelled, hopping a bit in the snow, but it did nothing to persuade Sansa. She rolled her eyes at her brothers, took her friend Jeyne by the arm, and sat across the courtyard. Arya was still laughing, holding her stomach, until Bran threw the snow in his hand at her, and it hit her square in the chest. She looked shocked at first, then narrowed her eyes and her lips split into a wicked grin.

Bran sprinted away, Arya followed, and Rickon cheered them on from his seat near the archery range. Chuckling, Ella trudged her way through the snow over to the young lad, who was humming quietly to himself. As she came closer, she slowed, trying to be as quiet as she could as she crept up on him. Her hands shot out and tapped him on each side. "Boo!"

Rickon gasped, whirling around with wide eyes and would have fallen off his seat had Ella not grabbed him. When he was righted again, he pouted at her. "Scaring isn't nice, Ella!" he reprimanded, and she chuckled.

"Could you find it in your heart to forgive me?" He smiled and giggled, nodding fervently. "Have you seen your brother?"

"Only Bran. Arya's chasing him."

"So I saw," she chuckled, sitting herself next to Rickon. "Are snow fights a common occurrence?"

Rickon nodded. "Yes. Except Arya never hits me with snowballs because she says she likes me more than she likes Bran. I don't think that's true though, because she beats up people she likes. She even beat up Robb once!"

"Oh?" Ella asked, and raised her eyebrows. Rickon nodded.

"It was a little bit before you came here. She and Robb were laughing about something and then she beat him up."

She shook her head, chuckling, and made a note to herself that if she wanted an adequate description of something, not to ask Rickon.

She was startled when someone tugged on her braid, and whirled around to see Robb standing behind her. He looked rather pleased with himself, and so she shoved him in the chest. It was only enough to make him take a step back, and it made him laugh.

"Braid-tugging isn't nice," she admonished, wagging her finger in his face. He caught her hand in his, stepping closer to her.

"And what are you going to do about it?" he asked, voice teasing and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

_Well, _she thought, _two can play at this game._

She tugged her hand out of his grasp, and before he could react, she caught a fistful of snow and threw it in his face. Robb sputtered, wiping the snow out of his eyes. Ella was only able to be smug a moment, for once Robb had cleared the snow away from his face, the look he gave her made her back away, shaking her head slowly.

"No!" she cried, grinning as she turned and began to run. It was a valiant effort, but one in vain, for it wasn't long before Robb caught her around the waist, and she squealed when he lifted her and twirled her a moment.

"Now!" he yelled, holding her still, and suddenly there were three Stark children throwing snowballs at her. She struggled in his arms a moment, but managed to turn them around, so the snowballs were hitting Robb's back.

"You're the worst husband in Westeros, Robb Stark!" she called, and he only laughed.

* * *

><p>Both Ella and Robb were soaking by the time they went inside. Analysa had worried over them, fixing a hot bath and setting out warm clothes, telling them sternly to bundle up and stay warm. "I won't have you getting sick again, M'lady!" she said, then looked to Robb. "Nor you, M'lord. I can take care of one of you at a time. Both of you is too much."<p>

That made Ella and Robb smile. Analysa left them, and Ella stepped behind the privacy screen, bringing trembling hands to peel her dress away from her skin. Her jaw was clenched to keep her teeth from chattering. It was warmer without her clothes on, and she groaned in contentment when she sank into the bathtub.

"Don't dirty the water," Robb said. "I should bathe, too."

"I'm only going to soak," she promised, chuckling. "And it's about time you bathed. Your stench was becoming overwhelming."

Robb retaliated by throwing his trousers over the privacy screen, and Ella gave a peal of laughter when they landed just on the rim of the tub. She balled them up, tossing them back onto the other side.

"Keep your trousers on!"

* * *

><p>Bran's name day celebration was set to be held the next night. At dinner, Catelyn hadn't reprimanded Ella for sneaking away. She didn't seem to have noticed at all, and if she did, she certainly didn't mind, for she hadn't said a word about anything of the sort.<p>

The following day, Analysa accompanied Ella to the corral. Seeing Westwind – who'd come to be nicknamed Big Red – made her smile. He was trotting around the stables, kicking and running, and she'd never seen a horse look so happy before. It didn't take long for him to notice the girls watching him, and he cantered to them quickly. Ella reached up to pat his nose, and he sniffed her hand in search of a sugar cube.

"None today, I'm afraid," she said, scratching behind his ear. "You know," she turned to Analysa, "I haven't yet ridden him."

"Another day, m'lady. I won't have you getting your hair all knotted just so I can brush it out again." Analysa ran her hands through Ella's hair, picking out curls here and there. "Such pretty hair, m'lady. I hate to see it full of knots."

Ella smiled. "Alright then, we'll go back inside."

They'd found Robb right at the door, and Analysa had kissed her cheek and bid her goodbye, calling that she had chores that needed to be done. Ella linked her arm through Robb's, tugging him down the hall. "What've you got planned for today?" she asked.

"Only the celebration," he replied, then leaned in to kiss her cheek. She giggled and swatted him away, but he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

"What's gotten into you?" she chuckled.

"What?" he grinned, "Can't a man kiss his wife?"

"No," she deadpanned, but then smiled and kissed his cheek.

"You," Robb breathed, shaking his head and pulling them further down the hall. "What am I going to do with you?"

That only made Ella laugh, and she tugged open the door to their chambers, unclasping her cloak and pulling off her gloves, tossing them over her privacy screen. She sat at the vanity, pulling a brush through her hair and watching Robb place his boots at the hearth through the looking glass.

"Robb, I have a red dress in the wardrobe. Could you set it out for me?"

He nodded, moving to the wardrobe, but paused to examine the dress she requested.

"This one?" he asked, and she turned, only to find that he didn't look impressed.

"Yes. What of it?"

"Nothing," he replied. "Only, I think you'd look much prettier in your green dress."

She raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't I look pretty in all my dresses?" she teased. Robb chuckled.

"Of course you do. But I think you'd look beautiful in your green dress."

Ella laughed, tying off the braid she'd twisted her hair into. "Right, then, if you insist, set out my green dress, please."

Night seemed to fall quickly, and it wasn't long before Ella and Robb were making their way to the great hall. There were smiles abound, and music in the air. Ella was reminded of her wedding night, only that _this_ celebration didn't make her stomach feel full of lead. Dinner was a feast – meat unimaginable and endless ale. Ella was never one for drinking, but somehow, glass after glass of wine was pushed into her hand, and she downed each one of them.

She enjoyed dancing, but found it more enjoyable drunk. The music was so melodic and she couldn't help but accept every man who asked her to dance. It was Theon and Robb and Jon, and others she didn't even know the names of, only knew that they were smiling and enjoying the celebration just as much as Ella was enjoying herself.

She found that, the more ale Robb consumed, the more inclined he was to let her dance with no one else but him. Had she been sober, she'd have been furious. But she was drunk, and sense was thrown to the wind, and she even _liked_ it.

So when she accepted a dance from the blacksmith's boy, and Robb tugged her away by the wrist, she only giggled and teased him.

"I'm only a girl," she'd called. "And I'm yours anyways, aren't I?"

"Damn right," he said, and kissed her hard. That sobered her up just slightly, because she was wide-eyed and out of breath when he pulled away.

But the still took the next glass of wine offered to her.

The night waned on, and Robb's kisses were more frequent. He was drunk, but he wasn't sloppy. His kisses always met their mark, until finally one landed on her jaw, then on her neck, and then the next thing Ella knew, he was pulling her out of the great hall and towards their chambers.

She went willingly.

The halls seemed so long and winding and she felt like she'd been walking forever, and by the time they reached their chambers, Robb was so impatient that he pushed her against the door and kissed her, and they were lucky that the corridor was deserted.

The lock clicked when they shut their door, mouths still connected, and Ella felt tugging at the laces of her dress. _Such a pretty dress_, she thought, mind fuzzy with wine, _Robb must have thought I looked so pretty tonight._ And then she stopped thinking anything at all when he bit gently on her lip.

It wasn't right. They knew it wasn't, in the back of their minds they knew, but ale was on his breath and wine was on hers, and the kisses were so sweet and their bodies were so warm and that was all they could think about. It was a relief to be out of her clothes, she thought. The cool air felt so good on her burning skin. She felt his hands moving across her body, from her shoulders, to her waist, to her hips…

She wasn't quite sure when they'd hit the bed, and only realized they were lying down when she opened her eyes to see the ceiling above her. She nearly thought of stopping, but then he kissed this _one spot_ on her neck, and she closed her eyes and arched her back.

His hips ground against hers, her head fell back, his fingers were tangled in her hair, and her senses seemed dulled and on fire all at once.

The last thing she remembered that night was the way it felt to have her fingernails dig in to Robb's shoulders.

**Oh, and things were going so well.**

**Erm, yes, well, I hope you enjoyed that chapter! Pre-series Robb is hard for me to write, so, as always, please review and let me know how I'm doing with his characterization. And let me know what you think in general. Constructive criticism is always welcome!**

**And 90 reviews you guys I can't even believe it thank you all so much!**

**Superdani a.k.a Gillian Smith: You want to punch them in the heads, you say? Then I'm doing my job. Thanks!**

**Lobo de Fuego: Thanks! I try to put myself in her shoes sometimes, to make her seem more real. I mean, if I had, say, my dog as the only reminder of my home, and then my dog went rabid and died, I'd be effin bummed. Though, I think Ella deals with it better than I would.**

**Eva1983: I never understand stories where they're instantly in love. I mean, sure Ella thought he was totally hot when they first met (who wouldn't?) but I find that fics where they're in love right away don't get me involved with the characters or the plot. It seems very empty. That's probably one of the main reasons why I started writing this, and why I do my best to make it as realistic as possible. Thanks!**

**To everyone who's reviewed/followed/faved: I love all of you so muuuuch! I would have given up on this probably after the first chapter if it weren't for all of you. You make me want to write! It may take a while for new chapters to get here, but I promise that I'll always give you guys new chapters. Also, thanks so much for your patience! I know how frustrating it can be to wait so long for new updates, and I feel so horrible for making you all wait. I promise I'll make the rest of these chapters as good as I can without taking so damn long each time. Anyways, thank you all so much for your support and patience and everything! **

**Hopefully chapter eleven will be along soon.**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	11. Eleven

**A/N: I don't think I've ever used the word fuck so many times in one chapter. I felt it was a bit overused at times, but then I thought, fuck it.**

XI

She was awake before she opened her eyes. It was a wonderful feeling of comfort and warmth, because she was curled on her side and she had her head resting on Robb's chest and his skin was warm flush against hers, but something felt off. Felt _wrong_. She took a deep breath, shifting against Robb's body and running her fingers over the hand resting on her bare thigh.

She opened her eyes groggily, squinting at her surroundings. She was on the wrong side of the bed. That should have been her first clue.

Her second clue was her lack of clothes. The third was Robb's. Her leg thrown over his hips, her chest against his side, their mussed hair, and the pounding in her head – well, those were just cold, hard facts.

Robb shifted, and she became very still. She looked up and met his eyes, and swallowed. Very slowly, they pulled apart, and didn't meet eyes again. They didn't even look at each other. The furs were gathered around her hips, and Ella pulled them up to cover herself, and she cast her eyes away as Robb rose and moved to dress. There was a feeling in her chest, like something sinking down into her stomach, and she fell back onto the bed, pulling the furs up around her and burying her face in the pillows.

It wasn't long before she heard the door open and close, and then she was alone. The last thing she remembered from the night before was being kissed against the door, but she was no idiot. She woke up naked, and there was a throb between her thighs that made her embarrassed, and she knew exactly what happened.

"Good morning, m'lady," Analysa sang, and bustled through the door. Ella turned her head, peeking out from the pillows to watch the young maid throw open the shutters. "It's so nice outside. The clouds have cleared and the sun is shining, and it looks so pretty against the snow!"

Ella closed her eyes tight, burying her face into the pillow again. "Not so loud," she groaned. "Close the shutters. I'm sleeping late this morning."

There was a brief moment of silence in which Ella knew that Analysa was sending her a worried look. She heard the heels of Analysa's boots pattering on the floor as she neared. "Are you unwell, m'lady?" she asked, turning Ella's face out of the pillow to feel her forehead. "You don't feel feverish. What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm sleeping in. I'll be up when I'm up." But Ella should have known better than to think that Analysa would accept that as an answer.

"The early bird catches the worm!" the petite maid insisted, and jostled Ella. She groaned, swatting Analysa away.

"Go, now! I wish to sleep longer."

Analysa chuckled. "Let's have you, lazy daisy!" she sang, and tried to tug the furs away from Ella. Her eyes shot open and she clung to the furs, shaking her head adamantly, ignoring the pounding against her forehead. The maid sighed, raising her eyebrows and placing her hands on her hips. "Oh, come, come. Out of bed, now!"

"Aren't I meant to be giving the orders around here?" Ella chuckled, but relented, wrapping the furs around her naked body and dragging herself from bed. When she stood, she had to take a moment to let the world right itself, and then she trudged over to the changing screen, throwing the coverlet over the screen. "Fetch me a dress, won't you?"

Analysa did as she was told, but with a confused look on her face. "M'lady…" she began, voice low and suspicious. She slowly set the dress over the screen. "Were you - ?"

"Yes," Ella snapped, and threw her dress over her head, smoothing it over her shift and tying the strings. After a moment, Analysa gasped, then lifted herself onto her toes to peer over the screen at Ella, eyes wide.

"_No!_" she cried, disbelieving. Ella sighed, rubbing her eyes and shaking her head.

"I don't want to talk about it," she insisted, and moved to pull her boots on.

"Alright," Analysa said, nodding, "only I think you _do_ want to talk about it."

"What makes you think that?" Ella asked. She limped to her chair, rubbing the scars on her leg before pulling her other boot on. "Because I really don't."

"I'd hate to insist -"

"Then don't."

"- but this could be a good thing!" Analysa kneeled in front of her, but Ella keenly avoided her eye. She sighed, shook her head, and decided to leave the matter be. "Let me help you," she said, and took the laces from Ella's hands, loosening them slightly. "Does it hurt you often? We can have Maester Luwin bring you more medicine."

"It only hurts occasionally. I've noticed…I can't walk so well anymore, nor run quite right. I don't think it'll ever be the same again."

"But you'll be able to ride, right? That's what Maester Luwin told you, isn't it?"

"It is," Ella replied, seeming deep in thought. Analysa raised her eyebrows at her.

"Would you like to ride today, milady?"

Ella swallowed, shifting in her seat, focused on the discomfort between her thighs. It wasn't like the morning after her wedding, but it had about three months since then, and the night previous was only the second time she'd ever been intimate with Robb – with _anyone_. "We'll sit with Sansa and Arya and work on needlepoint today."

* * *

><p>"What's your problem, then?" Theon asked, nudging Robb's shoulder with his. "You've been quiet all morning. Bad fuck?"<p>

Robb sent him a glare, but said nothing, instead sifting through the archery equipment. Theon raised his eyebrows, watching him.

"No fuck? Is that why you're so grumpy?"

Robb's only response was to thrust a bow and arrow-filled quiver into Theon's hands. He smirked, moving out from beneath the overhang to shoot, and Jon moved closer to Robb.

"If you won't tell him, tell me," he offered, keeping his voice low so Theon might not overhear. Robb sighed, slumping against the fence and bringing his hand up to rub his eyes. His head was still aching, and he was glad that Jon was keeping his voice low. Robb valued Theon as a friend, he truly did, but oftentimes he was too loud for his own good.

"Ella and I…" he hesitated. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable speaking of things like that – he didn't mind at all, really, as one couldn't mind when they knew Theon. He just wanted to forget that anything had happened at all the previous night. "We got drunk at the celebration and I woke up this morning to find I'd fucked her." Fucked – he didn't like to put it that way, not with Ella, but what else was he supposed to say? _Made love_ was idiotic, especially when there was no love between them.

Jon nodded. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I'd really rather like to forget it ever happened. I don't remember any of it, anyway."

"But you're worried that it's ruined things."

Robb could've kissed his brother. Jon could read him like a book. "I don't know how I'm meant to go about this," he mumbled, rubbing his hand over his eyes again. "Do I just…ignore that we woke up naked together and act like things are completely fine?"

"You could talk to her about it," Jon suggested, _like it's the simplest thing in the world_, Robb thought bitterly, _he knows nothing about relationships_.

"_How?_" He groaned in frustration. "I can't pull her aside and tell her I want to forget it ever happened!"

"Why can't you?"

That stopped Robb short. Why couldn't he? _Because I'm too embarrassed that it ever happened to acknowledge it_, he thought, but didn't want to say that to Jon. Instead, he shook his head and replied, "It's complicated."

"And I think it's because you're complicating things."

Robb didn't want to hear the sound advice Jon was giving him. He knew he was being stubborn and childish, but he wanted to take a while to avoid the truth. There was time for sensible advice later.

"I need more sleep," he grumbled to himself, and Jon sighed and shook his head at him. "I'll be awake sometime later."

* * *

><p>Needlework just wasn't cutting it for Ella. It was perhaps the worst choice she could've picked. The dullness of the pattern couldn't keep her interested, and her mind was abuzz with thoughts – thoughts, much to her dismay, about Robb and the way they woke up that morning. And she decided it was too much.<p>

"I think I'll retire to my chambers," she announced abruptly, standing and all but throwing her sewing on her chair before dragging Analysa by the arm out of the room. They hurried to her chambers, and Analysa sat and watched as Ella paced. "What do I do?" she asked, running a hand through her hair.

"Talk to me about it."

Ella slumped into her chair across from Analysa, rubbing her hands over her face. "Things were going well. _Very_ well. We were growing closer and…" Ella trailed off, seeming so search for words, and she wrung her hands in her lap. "We weren't _ready_ for this," she said, and it was like a whisper, like she didn't want to say out loud that it had really happened. A moment of silence passed between the two, and Analysa let Ella gather her thoughts. "I…I really wish it hadn't happened, Ana," she admitted softly. "I don't want to look at him. I haven't seen him all morning, how am I going to face him at meals? Or be able to sleep in his bed tonight?"

"I think, m'lady," Analysa began, "that there may be an opportunity to find good in this situation."

When Ella looked up at the maid, Analysa thought that she looked lost. "Like what?"

"Well…" the maid thought, blinking. "Well, perhaps this might bring you and Lord Robb closer." Ella snorted at that, and Analysa furrowed her brow. "No, really! I suppose it'll be strange for a little while, but after a bit you might even be closer. And besides, people get drunk and fuck every day, and they live through it. I'm sure you both can, too."

Ella only looked at Analysa a moment, eyes wide. Never had she heard the young maid use coarse language, and hearing her saying _get drunk and fuck_ so flippantly surprised Ella. But she blinked and nodded. "Yes, I…I suppose you're right." And then she looked up at Analysa. "And I believe _you_ have been spending too much time with that stable hand."

Analysa chuckled. "It's not me we're talking about here," she reprimanded, smiling and wagging her finger at Ella. After a moment, she sobered. "Now, why don't you paint or read and take your mind off of things, and I and I can bring you lunch if you don't want to chance seeing Lord Robb in the hall."

"Could you?" Ella asked, sweet and grateful. Analysa moved forward to press a kiss to her cheek.

"Of course, m'lady. Anything for you."

* * *

><p>She'd be sewing with his sisters, he could sleep for an hour longer, and when he woke, he'd be ready to face Ella. Yes, that was it. Only, when he entered the bedchamber, there was Ella at her desk, back turned to him as she idly wiped paint from her hands and gently fanned the painting that was propped against the wall.<p>

The painting was only the second one to she'd completed so far, the first being a wolf standing among trees, and the second was a view of the treetops of the wolfswood as seen from the window of their bedchamber. She was humming quietly to herself, clearly oblivious to his presence behind her. It was a song he'd heard her hum before, usually when she replaced the bed linens or laced up her gown in the mornings. He shut the door behind him, perhaps a bit harder than he'd meant.

"Set lunch by the fire, please," she said, still focused on cleaning her hands, and resumed humming.

"Ella." He hadn't meant to say it, and the word seemed to choke out of its own accord, and he blanched just after he'd said it. Ella turned, wide eyed at his voice, and she stumbled.

"Oh," she breathed, forcing a small smile. "I thought you were Analysa."

"You were going to take lunch in here today?" he asked, in an attempt to quell the unbearable awkwardness that was forming between them. He tried to keep his voice as natural as possible, as if nothing had happened between them at all.

"My leg's been hurting me today," she responded, and she seemed to pick up on what he was trying to do. Robb came forward, forgetting for just a short moment of their situation.

"Is it bad?"

"No." She shrugged. "Though I think I should rest it. It's only been healed for a little while."

The conversation dropped. And – oh, there it was again, the ebbing awkwardness that urged them to either fervently deny that anything had happened or throw themselves at each other and make good use of their marriage until they knew the other better than they knew themselves.

"I think we should talk."

"We need to speak."

They'd spoken at the same time, and met eyes, surprised, and then they chuckled slightly. "You first," Robb said, and Ella nodded her thanks.

"I think we should talk," she began again, slower and quieter this time. "About…last night." They both swallowed, averting their eyes. After a moment, Ella lost her resolve and looked at Robb, slumping her shoulders. Quietly, she admitted, "It was an accident. I really think we should pretend it never happened."

It was silent for a moment, but then Robb smiled softly down at her and said, "Pretend what never happened?" Ella met Robb's eyes, and then they broke into chuckles. "Now," Robb said after a moment, "why don't we find someone to bring me lunch, too, and we can dine together in our chambers?"

"You don't have to." Ella shook her head. "You can eat with your family if you'd like."

"My family's eaten with me for my whole life. I think they can handle one day without me." Then he gave her a big smile. "And besides, why ever would I carry my poor, crippled wife to the hall when I could simply dine in bed?"

She snorted, going to swat his arm, but he managed to dodge her hit just in time. The awkwardness had fallen away from them, now that they'd gotten their minds off of their situation, but it all fell away again when Analysa entered with a tray of food on her hip. Ella and Robb had been chuckling, goofing around with each other, but they stopped abruptly when the maid came in, smiles fading.

"Your lunch, m'lady," she said, seeming to sense that she'd interrupted something. When she was sure that Robb wasn't looking, she met eyes with Ella, who gave her a subtle nod and smile. Analysa set the tray by the fire, straightening and waiting for something to happen. The awkwardness had returned again, palpable between the three of them.

"Would you like Analysa to fetch you lunch, Robb?" Ella asked, finally breaking the dreadful silence, and Robb turned to her.

"Oh. Oh – yes, please."

Analysa nodded, then pretended to fiddle with the lunch tray for a moment. When Robb had turned away again, she went over to the door, and just before she slipped outside, mouthed to Ella, "_Good luck._"

**A/N: Again, sorry this took so long. The end of chapter 12 will mark the beginning of the series, and from then on updates should become more frequent, since a lot of the material will be taken directly from the source. Hopefully I'll have chapter 12 out to you soon. I'll start working on it right away.**

**For those of you who aren't tumblr followers, I am planning to write another story while I'm writing this. At the moment I'm not 100% sure for which fandom it'll be, but I'm about 99% sure that I will be writing and also probably posting another story while I'm doing this. Of course, I'll continue with ASBIW, and it will be my first priority, but I think the diversity of fandoms will make it easier for me to write, and will hopefully make updates more frequent.**

**Lobo de Fuego: Happy, happy times. Unfortunately, the series is coming along soon, meaning that the happy times aren't exactly here to stay. Thank you very much! I'm glad to know that I'm doing something right. I worry, sometimes, that I take things to quick or make things out of character. Thanks very, very much for letting me know - I appreciate it!**

**Dorah: There'll be a lot more interaction with Ned and Cat next chapter! I know, though, I've been meaning to get more of them in here. Ned and Cat are my favorites ever, I'm ashamed for not having written them in more.**

**evalilly: Definitely on their way. I want to make them a bit like Ned and Cat in their earlier days - thrown into it, but willing to jump hurdles to make it work. Thanks for your review!**

**DamonSalvatorelover: I'm excited for the start of the series, too! I've only planned everything out, and I'm excited to start writing it. I don't want to write Bran falling or Ned dying, but, alas, life cannot be happy without being sad. I've come up with a way to fix the 'Robb is already married, what will Walder Frey do?' issue. I'm not sure if I'm entirely content with it, but I've got it sorted, for the most part.**

**As always, hugs and kisses to everyone who's read and reviewed and faved and followed. We got to _100 reviews_ you guys, that's fucking awesome! Don't forget that I will always graciously accept criticism, so long as it's constructive. I strive to get better! Don't be afraid of seeming a little rough! I love to hear what you all have to say. The longer the reviews, the better! Leaving a review doesn't take that long, pretty please?**

**Shout-out to my lovely, lovely friend for proofreading it. According to her, she kind of half-assed it, but I was about to post this without editing it at all, so props to her. (This also means that any mistakes found are not my fault. ;D)**

**There's a poll on my profile! Go vote on it! It's important-ish!**

**Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed. Until next time.**

**-Rex**


	12. Twelve

**A/N: Yay for an update that hasn't taken a month to get out! This chapter was pretty easy to write. I really like this one.**

XII

After about an hour, she became frustrated.

Ella tapped her quill impatiently against the blank piece of parchment. Her brother's last raven was a very short, unimportant response, and she found herself at a loss about what she should write. It was strange – after sixteen years, they'd finally run out of things to talk about. She didn't want to be the first to stop writing, but Olin's letter was so flippant and rushed, she got the impression that her brother didn't really care about her letters anymore.

And it was a shocking realization for Ella to find that she didn't really care about his, either.

Oh, she loved her brother, she did! But as much as she'd missed him, the Starks of Winterfell were still new and exciting, even if she'd been with them for three months, and they were far more interesting than her brother.

"You're not ready yet?" Robb sighed from behind her, and she turned in her chair to see him standing in the doorway. She smiled sheepishly at him.

"I got distracted, I'm sorry." She stood from her seat, moving to the wardrobe to find her riding boots and cloak. "I hope you're not all waiting for me?"

"Not all of us, but I think you and Sansa are the only ones who aren't ready yet."

"I'll just be a moment," she promised, and began to lace up her boots. "Where is it we're going, again?"

"A spot in the Wolfswood we like to go. You'll see." He leaned against the door frame. "Are you sure you're comfortable with your horse? You've only ridden him a few times."

"I'm more comfortable with Red than I am with some other horse I've never ridden before." She stood, threw her cloak around her shoulders, and then moved forward to peck Robb on the cheek. "You worry too much. I'm confident that he won't throw me off." They left their room, closing the door behind them and making their way to the stables. "And even if he did, then I'd have another reason for you to spoil me."

"_Another _reason?" Robb scoffed. "What reason might you have now?"

"I'm your wife, of course," she said, sending him a wink. "That should be reason enough."

It had been two weeks since Bran's birthday, and what had happened afterwards. Things were…better. Robb and Ella had managed to forget it and move on. For the most part, at least. It was still there, lingering in their silences and making them awkward, springing to the front of their minds at the most inopportune moments, like when they smiled at each other or met eyes or had a tender moment. Then, they'd look away, squirm, avoid each other for a while.

The good thing, though, was that it kept them talking, filling the silences to battle the awkwardness. They grew closer, but sometimes it felt forced. But they tried their best.

All of the Starks were ready and waiting, so Robb and Ella mounted their horses, and the family was on their way. West was a dream. He rode smooth, followed her every command. She'd nicknamed him Red, because that was what he was, bright orange-red like Robb's hair. Analysa had been the first to note the resemblance, and it made Ella laugh until her sides hurt. She'd kept forgetting to tell Robb, and only remembered right before she went to sleep that night. He'd just settled in bed beside her, and her eyes were already drooping closed when she murmured, "You look like my horse."

He'd wormed the story out of her the next morning, but still sat around pouting at her for several days afterward.

It was nice to be out of Winterfell, she'd realized. She didn't feel at all like it was suffocating her, like Coldocean did sometimes. Back there, if she grew restless cooped up in the castle, she'd escape to the beach, or the little forest around the Cove, and she'd swim or climb trees. If ever Winterfell began to feel stifling, she'd go to the godswood and sit beneath the heart tree, and the birds singing and the leaves rustling in the wind were enough to make her feel free.

But being out of Winterfell was an entirely new thing, more freeing than sitting in the godswood. It was so long since she'd properly ridden a horse, out in the open and not just in a corral. It was West's first time out, too, so when Ella caught sight of Bran and Arya racing ahead, she kicked him into a gallop and the horse broke into a sprint.

"The first to that tree there wins!" Arya called. Bran was too wrapped up to ask which tree, which was all that Ella was thinking. She participated only half-heartedly in the race, until she saw Robb and Sansa beginning to catch up, and kicked West faster. The horse seemed to love running, and every time Ella urged him forward, he went faster than she expected. When she looked behind her, Ned and Catelyn had smiles on their faces, still in line with Rickon, who looked downcast at not being able to join the race because his horse was tied to Catelyn's.

By the time Ella, Robb, and Sansa had reached the tree, Arya had won, and was teasing Bran about the race. He teased right back, and it was the first time Ella had seen an argument between them that truly seemed liked it was in good fun.

"We'll wait here for the others."

That didn't sit well with Bran and Arya. "Can't we race to the lake?" they whined, sticking out their bottom lips and giving the tell-tale 'please please please, for me, your baby sibling?' look. Ella knew that look well. She'd used the look on Olin time and time again throughout her life. The last time she'd used it, she used it as a last resort, to convince him not to make her marry Robb.

And she was glad that he didn't fall for it.

Ella was sure that Robb knew the look, too, because with four younger siblings, he _had _to know the look. But that didn't mean that he couldn't fall for it. "Alright," he conceded, and Arya and Bran cheered before they shot off into the woods, and Robb took off after them. Ella was just about to go, when Sansa interjected.

"I can't see why they'd want to race the whole way there. One race is fun, but two is just childish."

Ella smiled at her, and they eased their horses into walks. She wasn't sure where she was headed, but Sansa seemed to know the way, so she kept along with her.

"It's alright to be childish sometimes," Ella shrugged, mostly just to see Sansa's reaction.

"It's stupid. Why would anyone want to act childish? Especially if they're not a child."

"Well, Bran and Arya are children."

"Robb isn't."

Ella snorted at that. "To be honest, Sansa, I'm still not wholly convinced that he isn't."

* * *

><p>She let out a long breath, lying back on the quilt spread out on the ground near the lake. Her boots were discarded somewhere by the horses, and her cloak was thrown over a branch behind her. There was perspiration dotting her brow, and it was strange to be cold and sweating at the same time. Her leg ached, dull pain around the scars from her riding accident.<p>

"You only lost once," Ned, laughed, and she smiled at him and Catelyn, who were sitting and sipping wine, watching their children play Kick the Stick.

"My scars are hurting again," she shrugged. "That lot is too lively for me."

They chuckled, and laughed when Arya shrieked, tagged by Rickon when she tried to sneak up and kick the stick he was guarding, stuck in the ground. While Rickon was distracted, Robb snuck up and kicked the stick, then lifted Rickon off the ground and called for Bran to come from behind whichever tree he was hiding and kick he stick before Rickon wormed his way out of Robb's grasp.

Ella stole Sansa's cup of wine from her hand, taking a sip and sending a sweet smile at her annoyed look. "You're the quietest of them all, you'd win every round," Ella coaxed, and Sansa sighed, thinking she'd gotten away from the conversation earlier.

"Kick the Stick is idiotic."

"But it's fun. And if you win five rounds, someone else has to do your chores all day." Well, that wasn't true, but Ella liked to see the carefree Sansa, the one that never came out so often. Besides, she was sure that if she batted her eyes enough, and left a few extra kisses here and there, she could convince Robb to do Sansa's chores for a whole day. Sansa eyed her.

"You have to come back and play, too."

"Sansa, my leg -"

"Then I won't play until it feels better."

Ella sighed. _Why do Starks have to be so damn stubborn?_ "Alright." She stood, and held a hand out to help Sansa stand. "Let's go. They're going to start the new round soon."

As it happened, Sansa was an incredible Kick the Stick player. She was able to sneak up behind everyone who guarded the stick, even Arya, who was like a wolf guarding its kill. Eventually, the pain in Ella's leg became too much, and Robb had to carry her back to the blanket.

When he set her down, she asked, "Doesn't doing Sansa's chores sound appealing?"

He furrowed his brow at her. "What?"

"Well…" she laughed sheepishly. From the corner of her eye, she could see Ned and Catelyn smiling at them. "I may or may not have told Sansa that if she won five rounds, someone else would do her chores for a day."'

He frowned at her. "Do you hate me?"

"_Please_, Robb?" She batted her eyelashes at him, giving him big, innocent eyes. It took a moment for him to sigh and slump his shoulders.

"Fine."

She smiled and threw her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. "You're the sweetest brother, did you know?"

"I better be," he grumbled, and she kissed his cheek again. He went back to go entertain his sisters, and Catelyn put her hand over Ella's.

"That face is how you're going to win every argument," she said, smiling slyly at Ella. "Soon enough, you can give him that face, and he'd buy all Seven Kingdoms if you asked."

Ella grinned, laughing. "I'll keep that in mind, if ever I wish to buy all Seven Kingdoms." Catelyn slapped her arm lightly.

"That's not what I meant!"

"She has a point," Ned cut in, smiling. "She gave me that face, once, and the next thing I knew, I was having wine imported from Dorne."

* * *

><p>It was the strangest thing for Ella to find, that night, that she <em>missed<em> Robb. He was right there next to her, on his back with the furs halfway up his chest just like every night, but she missed curling into his side. She missed him being her pillow. For the past two weeks, they'd made sure to keep to their opposite sides of the bed, refraining from even brushing hands when they were beneath the sheets, but Ella had reached the point where she wanted to damn it all and use Robb as her pillow again.

He was more comfortable than her feather pillow. She'd decided that a long time ago.

She lay awake for a while, battling internally on the upsides and downsides of cuddling him. She missed having something to hug as she fell asleep. But what if he pulled away? What if he was uncomfortable?

Well, if he was uncomfortable, that was just too bad. Ella was uncomfortable without him.

So she turned, just like usual, and threw an arm over his chest, resting her head on the spot where his shoulder met his chest. Robb's arm curled around her, holding her tight to his side, and she pressed a kiss to his skin just before they fell asleep.

* * *

><p>That was the fifth arrow to miss the target. Bran stomped on the ground in frustration. He had too many fingers on the bowstring, Ella observed, and told him. She came forward to show him -<em> three fingers on the string, one above and two below. Only at the first line on your fingers. The thumb is an anchor, right at the jawbone. Don't forget your follow through.<em>

He tried again, and again the arrow missed. Instead, it lodged itself in a barrel just next to it. Jon moved around to pat him on the shoulders, and bent to encourage his brother.

"Go on," he urged. "Father's watching." The brothers looked up to the balcony above them, at Lord and Lady Stark, who were smiling down at the boys. Bran sent them a quick smile, then notching another arrow. Ella leaned against the fence, where only a foot or so away, Rickon was balanced on a saddle. Bran released the arrow. It it the far wall, and fell uselessly on the ground. He huffed, but notched another arrow obidiently.

The next arrow ricocheted off of the wall and stuck in a bale of hay. They all laughed, and were glad to see Bran crack a smile. It was the same routine, arrow after arrow, and none of them missed the target. One of his arrows flew straight over the back wall, and the boys laughed at him, even little Rickon on his saddle.

"And which one of you was a marksman at ten?" Lord Stark asked from above. "Keep practicing, Bran. Go on."

Sobered, Robb and Jon went forward to encourage their brother. "Don't think too much, Bran," Jon said, and Robb put in, "Relax your bow arm."

The next arrow went straight through the middle. Only, it wasn't Bran's.

They all turned, brows arched in surprise, to see Arya grinning mischeviously from beneath the overhand, bow in hand. They laughed heartily, but Bran pouted, and took off towards her. He climbed over the fence, stumbling after her.

"She's quick, Bran! Faster!" Jon called. Ella lifted Rickon from his seat on the saddle.

"Go help your brothers collect the arrows," she told him, and nudged him towards the boys.

Arrows were scattered all over, because Jon and Robb and Bran practicing all morning. Ella held her skirts, and bent to pick up some of the stray arrows around her. Robb was off by the far wall with Rickon, who was eagerly handing his brother arrows that he found. Jon was putting them back in the block, picking up a few discarded arrows around his feet that had fallen out of Bran's grip.

She took her little handful of arrows to Jon, who'd just taken more from Rickon a moment before. He looked downcast, and his shoulders were tense.

"Are you alright?" she asked, once he'd taken the arrows from her hand. He nodded mutely, and didn't meet her eye. She stood with him for a moment, determined to catch his attention. He did look up at her, eventually, and she gave him a small smile. "Are you sure?" Her voice was soft, and he smiled back at her.

"I am," he assured, and turned to retrieve more arrows.

"Alright," she heard Robb say, "Go run back and get the rest of them."

She went over to him, taking half of the arrows from his hand and walking back to the overhand with him. "He's got promise," she mentioned, nodding to herself. "I think he's nervous about so many people watching him."

"He usually does well. I think he focuses too much on trying to impress our parents. And when he fails, he gets frustrated, and it distracts him."

"Perhaps you should keep his practices more private, until he's more confident."

Robb had opened his mouth to respond, when Rodrik Cassel interrupted their conversation.

"Excuse me, Milord, Milady. There's been a deserter from the Wall. It's time to saddle your horse."

Robb looked to Ella, holding the rest of his arrows to her. "Can you finish?"

She nodded, smiling. "Go. You don't want to keep them waiting."

He took her by the arm, pressing a kiss to her cheek, then went off to the stables. Rodrik sent her a kind smile before going to find Jon, who'd run after Rickon and his arrows moments before.

Something seemed strange, like there was a shift in the air. Subtle, but not quite right. She stuck the arrows into the block, looked up to meet Catelyn's half-hearted smile, then turned to watch the boys, all saddled up and in their cloaks, ride out of Winterfell.

**A/N: And that's the end of Part One! Part Two will still be posted under this story. I just felt like going fancy and splitting on fic into different parts.**

**That last half probably looks awfully familiar, huh? I wonder, I wonder...**

**ThatGirl54: Thank you! I don't have any plans for anymore setbacks, so the only way things can go is up.**

**Eva1983: Oh, I wouldn't ruin everything when things just got good! I'm too lazy of a writer for that. :P You're lucky that I've got the drive to even write everything out! Thanks!**

**Lobo de Fuego: Soak in the happy! Hoard all of the happiness you can! Chapter 13 may or may not have something about a raven from King's Landing... Thank you!**

**Again, thanks to everyone who's reviewed, followed, and faved. It really means the world. I've been writing this little beast for like seven months now, and I'm glad that you're all sticking with me. Don't be afraid to criticize me - I'm tough, I can take it. I want to know everything you think about this! What you like, what you don't like, what you think I could've done better. And tell me how you think the story will play out with Ella in it! I know you're all wondering - give me your best guess! (Hey, for all you know, maybe I'll have Ned decide to stay in Winterfell and they all live happily ever after! Really, though, how pissed would you be if I did that?)**

**I did a really shitty job editing this. It's two in the morning and I really can't be bothered. So, so sorry. **

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	13. Thirteen

Part Two

XIII

_Then leaf subsides to leaf.  
><em>_So Eden sank to grief,  
><em>_So dawn goes down to day.  
><em>_Nothing gold can stay._

_- Nothing Gold Can Stay, Robert Frost_

Ella had settled down for a nap not too long after Robb and the others had left, but it felt like she'd only been asleep for a few moments when a gentle weight awoke her. She groaned into her pillow, shifting, and the little bit of weight on her toppled off. There was a quiet chuckle, and then all of a sudden, something wet was nudging at Ella's face. She frowned, but kept her eyes shut, swatting at whatever was there. And then something began licking her, and that was when she opened her eyes.

It was safe to say that she wasn't expecting a little wolf pup to be staring up at her when she opened her eyes, but there it was. She blinked in surprise at it, and then it began to lick her face. Robb was chuckling at her, and she pulled the pup away to sit up.

"Who's this?" she asked, scratching the pup behind the ears when it burrowed into her lap.

"I've been thinking to call him Grey Wind. We found the litter with its mother's corpse. There was one for each of us. It's a dire wolf."

Ella looked up from the pup, eyebrows raised in surprise. "A dire wolf? But there are none south of the Wall."

Robb shrugged, and the only thing he could think to say was what Jon had told them earlier. "Now there are five." But then there was the albino that Jon had found. "Well, six. Jon has his own."

"And we have this one?" She looked down at the pup, rolling around in the furs, and Robb smiled.

"I'm afraid he might be more trouble than he seems," Robb said, and he was right. It didn't take long for he and Ella to discover the little trouble maker that was their pup. Grey Wind liked to run, and he was rather fast for a pup. Whenever someone opened the door, he'd go bounding out and down the hall, and someone would have to chase after him.

But Robb seemed a good enough trainer. Soon enough, Grey Wind learned to stay perfectly in step with either him or Ella, and he'd only gotten a nibble at Robb's boots before the look Robb gave him scared him off of boot-chewing for life.

They'd learned at dinner, the day of the execution, that there was a raven from King's Landing, and in a month, the King and his men would arrive at Winterfell. And so the preparations began.

Ella was always one step behind Catelyn. She became more accustomed to her place, ever observant to how Lady Stark ran the household. _That will be me one day_, she thought vaguely, and somehow couldn't ever imagine herself to be like Catelyn, ordering this and instructing that, making sure everything was in place. There were still weeks until the King's arrival, but Catelyn reminded her diligently that everything must be perfect. They were representing the North, and it was important to make a good impressions.

Well, Ella could make good impressions. At least, that's what she told herself. The Starks seemed to have taken to her rather quickly, but then again, they didn't exactly have any other choice but to. And anyways, the King and Queen would be in Winterfell for a month at most, and would return to King's Landing with or without Ned. And Ella would never have to see them again. First impressions might not matter _that_ much.

Or, so she hoped.

When Ella wasn't shadowing Catelyn, she spent most of her time with Robb, or Analysa, or the other children. It was curious to Ella how well the children had chosen their pups. Sansa's pup, Lady, was calm and quiet and sweet, and Arya's pup, Nymeria, named for a warrior queen, was just as wild and playful as she.

Grey Wind was being trained well. Robb worked with him constantly, and it didn't take long for Grey Wind to understand sit, stay, and come. But much to Robb's chagrin, Grey Wind had a bit of a difficult time learning 'Get off of the bed, you damned dog!'

"Robb, don't be sharp with him! He's only a pup," Ella defended, and let Grey Wind curl into her front when the pup toddled over to her side of the bed.

"He'll get in the habit, and when he's fully grown, what will we do?"

"Get a bigger bed." Robb gave her a look, and she smiled. "Alright, we'll keep him from the bed…starting tomorrow night. For now, can we just get some sleep?"

Robb grumbled quietly to himself, and Ella sent him a good-natured smile and kissed his neck when she curled into his side. After a moment, Robb shifted her up the bed a little and turned to face her, nuzzling her neck, and then pressing a kiss there. Lately, they'd been testing their limits. It was an unspoken thing between them that every so often they'd go a little further than the time before. Eventually, it became a bit of a game – how much can I touch you before you back down?

He toyed with the neckline of her nightgown a bit, then shifted it to expose her shoulder, and trailed kisses down the skin there. Ella nudged her leg between his, pressing their fronts together, and she could've sworn Robb growled. He seized her sides and turned her over on the bed.

But the moment was ruined when a high-pitched yelp rang through the room. Ella gasped, lifting herself off the bed slightly, and it wasn't until the pup squirmed out from beneath her that she realized they'd rolled on top of Grey Wind. The pup gave them an annoyed look, then leapt off the bed and curled up by the fire.

Robb rolled back to his side of the bed, looking rather defeated, but Ella snorted and began to laugh, rolling over to stifle her laughter in his chest. "We _rolled on top of him_, Robb!" she chortled. He smirked.

"Well, serves him right for sleeping on our bed."

* * *

><p>"You know, Milady, it's often said that if you frown too long, it'll stay on your face."<p>

Ella shot Analysa a glare. The young maid did nothing to hide her snicker. "I could be painting. I could be practicing archery with Bran. I could be training Grey Wind. Why did you insist on embroidery?"

"Because it's my name day today, and you promised we'd do anything I wanted on my name day. And I happen to like embroidery."

"You hate it."

"But I should learn to be good at it, anyways. And so should you. Wouldn't you want to embroider things for your children one day?"

Ella considered that. The only time she'd ever thought of having children with Robb, it made her feel physically sick. (Well, she'd only known him a day. It was to be expected.) "I don't see children in our near future, Ana." But she had to admit, the maid had a point. She _would_ like to embroider things for her children one day. "I'll have plenty of time to practice."

Analysa chuckled. "Though I do thank you for putting up with embroidery today, Milady. It's very sweet of you."

"It's your special day. If putting up with a loathed activity means you get to have a nice day, well, I think I can live." And then Ella began to think of her own name day, a mere week before she came to Winterfell. When she was a girl, she'd always been so excited to turn sixteen, but a month beforehand, Olin informed her of her engagement to Robb, and she'd come to dread the day.

They'd tried to make the day special for her – her favorite breakfast, brought up to her in bed, gifts of dresses and jewelry, but none of it could raise her spirits, because a week later, she'd have to leave all of it behind.

But, she supposed, that in the end it was worth it.

Sitting around doing needlework to appease Analysa didn't seem worth it at all. "I'm going to catch some fresh air," Ella said, and Analysa chuckled at her as she scurried out of the room.

It hadn't taken long for her to snatch up her cloak and steal away to the balcony. She leaned against the bannister, looking over the courtyard. The snow had long since melted, much to Ella's dismay, but Winterfell was still lovely as ever. People were milling about, doing their chores or already heading home for the day. Robb and Jon were..._wrestling_, they claimed, but it only looked like a very aggressive hug. The other children, Ella was sure, were still inside tending to their chores or sitting bored in their lessons.

The cold breeze made her wrap her cloak tighter around herself, jaw clenching slightly to keep her teeth from chattering.

"You look cold!" Jon called, him and Robb smiling up at her. She grinned down at them.

"And you look furry, but I wasn't going to say anything."

The brothers guffawed, and Robb leaned on Jon's shoulder. "I only meant to suggest to my lady that she should go inside. I'd hate for my brother's wife to catch a chill."

At this, Robb gave her a very serious look, but the twitch in his lips told Ella that he was still jesting. "You're so caring, Jon. Perhaps I should've married you instead of that blockhead who hogs the bed."

"I only hog the bed because you steal the furs."

"I only steal the furs because you hog the bed!"

The boys' composure gave way, and they screwed up their faces and laughed. Biting the inside of her lip, Ella moved away from the balcony and went over to the stairs down to the courtyard. They'd only just recovered from their laughing fit when she approached them. "You two," she sighed, sending them good-natured smiles. "What am I going to do with you both?"

"Have him sleep outside?" Jon suggested, and Ella snickered.

"Not actually a bad idea," she shrugged. Jon laughed and squeezed his brother's shoulder.

"Better mind your behavior," he warned, before nodding politely and smiling at Ella and going on his way. Robb moved closer to Ella, wrapping his arms around her, and she was grateful for the extra warmth.

"I thought you were going to spend the day with Analysa."

"I was, but I decided to take the low road and cater to my own needs instead. Think of it this way: I'm doing her a favor by not burdening her with my presence all day."

"Your presence isn't a burden," Robb assured, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She smiled.

"You only say that because you have to."

"Well, still." Ella gave a bark of laughter and slapped his chest.

"Some husband you are!" A mischievous look sparked in his eyes, and hers widened briefly before she turned and picked up her skirts to scurry away.

"Oh, no you don't!" she heard him say, and it was only a moment before he caught her around the waist and twirled her a bit. She laughed, turning in his embrace once she was set back down on the ground and twining her arms around his neck, leaning up on her toes to kiss him.

"Get a room!" someone yelled, and Ella pulled away to give Theon a playful sneer.

"Let's," she said to Robb, then grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. They swung their hands carelessly between them as they walked, and occasionally they'd shoot each other sweet looks and chuckle at nothing.

"Ella! I'm glad to have found you." Robb and Ella looked up in surprise at Catelyn, who was walking towards them with a kind smile. "I was just on my way to the kitchens to oversee preparations. I thought you might like to join me."

Ella bit the inside of her lip, turning to give Robb a quick exasperated look and then kiss his cheek, giving his hand one last squeeze before turning and smiling at Catelyn. "I'd love to," she said, and chanced one last look over her shoulder as they walked away, giving Robb a wink just as they'd turned the corner.

* * *

><p>"How much longer until the King arrives?" she asked again, leaning against the wall and observing the people in the great hall scurrying about. Analysa chuckled.<p>

"I think that's the only thing I've heard you say in the past week, Milady."

"I don't want to be Lady of Winterfell," Ella whined, scrunching her nose. "You can do it. I'd rather be out riding, or practicing archery. Do you know how long it's been since I've held a bow?"

"Too long?" the maid suggested, cocking a brow.

"Too long," Ella agreed. It wasn't exactly that she found overseeing things boring, she admitted to herself. It was just that she wasn't any good at it. Every so often, Catelyn would step in and fix something Ella hadn't even noticed was wrong. And that scared her half to death. She knew that one day, she'd be standing where Catelyn stood, perhaps preparing for another of the King's visits, and what would she do then? Sometimes Sansa would join them, and would whisper to her mother that that was out of place, or wouldn't that look nicer there?

Ella had lost her mother before she'd reached an age to be shown how to run a household. Her father had run the household with ease, perhaps because appearances meant little to him, and when her father was gone, her Uncle Rhys did well to do what needed to be done. For the longest time, her only responsibilities were her lessons.

She knew, in the back of her mind, that it would take time and practice to learn what went where, and that she surely had a long time until she'd need to run the household instead of Catelyn, but it still worried her, and made her embarrassed when she didn't catch a mistake.

"You're overthinking again," Analysa sang, and Ella snapped out of her thoughts. She sighed, and moved closer to Ella. "Look at what they're doing, how everything is being set up. _Really_ look. What looks like it should be different?"

Ella chewed on her lower lip, narrowing her eyes and scrutinizing the great hall. The tables looked good, as did all the seating. "The lighting," she said, louder than she'd meant, and attracted Catelyn's attention. "Shouldn't there be more light up near the King's table?"

After a moment, Catelyn nodded. "You're right." And Ella felt the warmth of pride in her belly when Catelyn ordered the servants to change the lighting more. Analysa squeezed her arm.

"See?" she whispered. "You'll do just fine, Milady."

* * *

><p>"Damnit – <em>Grey Wind<em>!"

Ella and Robb tumbled out of their chambers, stumbling after the wayward wolf. The pup held Robb's left boot in his mouth, and damn him, he was quick. Both were only half-dressed, Ella without her over-dress and Robb without his undershirt or shoes. The servants chuckled and whispered as they went past, but the couple's main concert was catching their pup

For the most part, Grey Wind followed orders to the letter, but he was still a pup, and one that had a knack for mischief. Robb was able to overtake him as he neared the stairs, and went down on his knees and slid to a stop. From behind, Ella was able to catch Grey Wind, getting down on her knees and hauling him into her arms. Robb took the boot in his hands, giving the pup a very stern look and commanding, "Drop it."

Grey Wind hesitated for a moment, but Robb narrowed his eyes, and the boot was released.

"Get used to using that voice," Ned said from behind them, chuckling at their surprised faces. "It'll be the only one your children respond to one day."

"Hopefully it won't be for stealing boots," Ella remarked, standing and heaving Grey Wind up. Ned chuckled again.

"Your mother wants you down in the kitchens," he said to Robb, who frowned.

"She wants me shaved, doesn't she?"

"Beards grow back," Ned assured with a smile.

"Bring me my clothes when you come down?" Robb asked Ella, and she nodded.

"Once I'm dressed and have this one taken care of." She shifted Grey Wind in her arms, and the pup gave her an indignant look. For only being a few months old, he was rather heavy. Footsteps came pattering up the stairs behind them.

"Father!" Bran cried, his pup – as of yet unnamed – hot on his heels. Grey Wind squirmed in Ella's grasp when he saw his brother, and she set him down beside the other pup. "The King's nearly here! I saw them, I saw all of them!"

Ned grasped Bran's shoulder, and gave Robb and Ella meaningful looks before beginning down the stairs.

"Get ready, you two."

**A/N: So, so extremely sorry for the late update. Life was being a bitch and then I had a bit of writer's block and ugh. I'm also sorry for putting this chapter up 99.9% unedited. I was just so tired of looking at this chapter and I wanted to get it out bleh. Hopefully the next chapters won't take so long, since most of the stuff is going to be taken directly from the episodes. **

**Nothing from the episodes in this chapter, due to the fact that there's a month before the King arrives. And this is that month. There's going to be a fat man in Winterfell next chapter. From here on out, nearly everything's going to be straight from the episodes. Really.**

**The poem at the beginning is from _Nothing Gold Can Stay_ by Robert Frost, AKA my favorite poet, AKA the guy who wrote the poem that I used in the first chapter and for the title of this story. You go, Robert Frost.**

**twiggy31:**** Every time something happens to the Starks, I always say I want to whisk them away to some little island where nothing bad ever happens. You'd think, as a fanfiction writer, I'd start trying to make that a possibility. *shrug* As for the intimacy, they're still warming up to each other. We see in this chapter, though, that they're starting to realize the perks of being married to and sharing the bed of someone attractive.**

**DamonSalvatorelover:**** I really, really dread writing those events. I've half a mind to have Ned just say no and have the rest of the Starks live in peace forever. Unfortunately for that scenario, I've already planned out this fic to its end, and I intend wholeheartedly to see it through.**

**Lobo de Fuego:**** D'awww, thanks! :') I certainly hope her presence doesn't seem forced. Lemme know if that starts to change, yeah? I'm trying to ****incorporate her as seamlessly as I can. And, hey, not the _complete_ end of happiness! Just...the end of constant happiness. But I promise, there are more smiles in store for this lot. Just...not as many as there have been recently.**

**Also, a huge thanks to asmith40, who sent me an awesome message over tumblr and really got me motivated to finish this chapter.**

**Really, I know this probably sounds repetitive and old but it truly does mean everything when you all review. I rely on it, really. Reviews are the key to new chapters, you know! As always, criticism is welcome. I love to hear what you all think about the things I've written. And I sort of need to hear that you want to read more in order for me to write more. :P**

**No words can describe how thankful I am for all of my readers, everyone who's reviewed and faved and followed. Seriously, you all are the absolute best. 3 I love all of you, got it? LOVE!**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	14. Fourteen

**A/N: Knowing what I want to write but not being able to get it out sucks and that shit should be illegal. I'd really like to try and get updates on some kind of schedule because I feel bad that chapters take so long and I know that this shit isn't cool. Hopefully I can work something out, but unfortunately I can make no promises. This chapter's a little bit longer to make up for that.**

**Just a quick warning that this is coming at you unedited and is therefore probably full of errors. If anyone would like to beta, please please please let me know because I am a lazy ass and can't be bothered to edit the chapters after I finish writing them and I'm sure everyone else would like to read chapters that aren't full of errors.**

XIV

She smiled at servants and offered brief hellos as she walked down the hall, clothes draped over an arm and Grey Wind trotting at her side. When she arrived at the kitchen, she leaned against the doorway and watched the boys tease each other. All three had their hair trimmed, and any trace of beard was shaven away.

"Well, don't you boys look dashing?" she laughed, walking towards them. She handed Robb his undershirt and doublet. "I have to get the girls dressed. I trust you can take care of yourself?"

"Don't worry, he's in good hands," Theon assured, clapping Robb on the back.

"Make sure he looks good. After all, I'm the one who has to stand next to him."

"We'll get him cleaned up nice, won't we, Jon?"

Ella chuckled. "Behave, you three." Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. "Grey Wind!" she barked. The pup gave her an innocent look, walking away from the skinned carcass he'd taken interest in. She gave the boys one last, fleeting smile before going off to Sansa's chambers.

Grey Wind and Lady curled up together by the fire, and Ella and Sansa set to work. They were setting out brushes and dresses for the welcoming feast that night. Ella would most likely be wrestling Arya into her dress, so it was nice to be prepared. Sansa spent all her time raving about the dress she made, which was truly a very nice piece of work, while Ella wound her hair into a braid.

"Are you almost ready?" she asked, fiddling with the front of her dress and looking over to Sansa, who was still going on about something or the other. Ella moved to the wardrobe to grab Sansa her cloak. "Here, put this on." She pushed the cloak into Sansa's hands, then moved to leave.

"Hurry outside. The King should be here soon."

"Where are you going?"

"I forgot my cloak. I'll be down in just a moment. Tell Robb if he asks."

Grey Wind, startled at her sudden departure, shrugged Lady off of him and was quick to follow Ella down the hall. By the time she was downstairs, her cloak thrown haphazardly over her shoulders, everyone was lined up as they were meant to be, and Ella had to push her way through the crowd, shoving Theon when he snickered at her for being late. Robb nudged her when she found her place in line, giving her a look. '_Shut up_,' she mouthed, and he chuckled at her.

"Where's Arya?" She looked over to find Catelyn fussing. "Sansa, where's your sister?" Sansa only shrugged noncommittally. "Ella, have you seen Arya?"

"Not all morning."

Catelyn sighed, muttering back and forth with Ned. Ella felt the thump of her heart beneath her ribs, and sought out Robb's hand. He didn't look at all nervous, but he didn't turn to look at her, just kept his eyes straight forward and squeezed her hand. Something about that made Ella think that he was just better at hiding his nervousness than she was. She wasn't quite sure _why_ she was nervous, though she supposed that it was the fact that Winterfell would soon be overflowing with people, and she was shy.

The patter of feet on the mud alerted them to Arya, who was attempting to scoot into line without getting into trouble. Ned caught her arm as she went past, and the girl gave a quiet groan when he turned her to face him. "What are you doing with that on?" Ella smiled, and Ned lifted the helmet off of Arya's head. She was giving Ned her best 'youngest daughter' look, but he only handed the helmet back to Rodrik Cassel behind him.

Angrily, Arya pushed her way into line, and as the first of the King's men came through the gates, Ella felt the need to free her hand from Robb's. When she did, she saw from the corner of her eye that he turned to give her a look, but she kept her gaze straight ahead. Only, Robb didn't stop looking her way. Furrowing her brow slightly, she chanced him a glance, and saw that it was Sansa he was looking at, not her. Sansa had a coy smile tugging at her lips, and when Ella followed her gaze, she saw that the girl was looking at the Prince.

Robb was tense beside her, and Ella could see him frowning unhappily. She smirked, but said nothing, because she knew what older brothers were like. The wheelhouse came to a stop in the courtyard, and Ella only caught a glimpse of the King before she had to gather her skirts and take to her knee. She heard the King's footsteps in the mud, and it wasn't long before she was standing again. King Robert was just as fat as she'd heard, staring at Ned with a frown.

"Your Grace."

"You got fat."

Ella eyed the two warily, brow furrowing slightly when both the King and Ned burst into laughter and embraced each other. She wasn't quite sure what to make of the King, and her eyes strayed to the Prince, looking haughty atop his horse, eyes still trained on Sansa.

"Nine years," the King sighed, and Ella's attention was drawn back to him. "Why haven't I seen you, where the hell have you been?"

"Guarding the North for you, Your Grace," Ned smiled. "Winterfell is yours."

"Where's the Imp?" Arya whispered. Sansa glared at her.

"Would you shut up?"

"You two! Behave!" Ella hissed, sending them a stern look and gesturing her head towards the King. She hadn't noticed that the King had begun to move down the line until he was right in front of her, looking her up and down.

"I heard of you," he remarked, nodding slightly to himself before moving on. Ella blinked, not entire sure how to take the comment. She glanced at Robb questioningly, and all he had to offer was a shrug. She paid no attention to the King as he continued down the line, instead watching the Queen approach. Cersei Lannister's face was a mask of superiority, and as she offered her hand for Ned to kiss, she looking nothing but regal.

"Take me to your crypt, I want to pay my respects."

"We've been riding for a month, my love," the Queen interjected, voice gentle but insistent. "Surely the dead can wait."

The King wouldn't hear any of it. "_Ned_." He began off toward the crypts. Ned gave the Queen a reluctant glance, then followed the King and left the rest of them in an awkward silence. Catelyn gave the Queen a terse smile.

"Where's the Imp?" Arya asked again, looking up at Sansa. The Queen glanced at the young girl, before turning to speak with her brother. The people in the courtyard began to talk amongst one another quietly, and Ella turned to Robb.

"I'm to show the princess to her chambers," she sighed, leaning against his shoulder. Robb nudged her.

"It can't be that bad."

"It won't be," Ella shrugged. "Only, afterwards I have to get Arya ready for the feast."

At that, he laughed. "Well, good luck."

She chuckled and lightly slapped his arm, giving him a look before moving over to Catelyn.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure I'm not tying them too tight?"<p>

Ella sighed. "If they were any looser, I wouldn't have a dress on."

"Is that a problem?"

She snorted and slapped his chest. "Shut up. Tighter."

Robb tugged at the ties of her dress, fumbling with them for a moment. "There, they're tied. I think."

"I certainly hope so." She straightened her dress, smoothing the front of her skirt and turning to face him. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful," he replied, taking her gently by the arms to press a kiss to her forehead. Ella groaned quietly, leaning against his chest, face nestled in the crook of his neck.

"I don't want to force Arya into her dress. Couldn't your mother have done it?"

"As far as I know, Mother's with Sansa."

"Septa Mordane?"

"Arya bites, did you know?"

"No kidding." She kissed his neck before pulling away. He gave her a rueful smile before she left, and Ella braced herself to enter Arya's room. A sigh of relief left her when she entered the young Stark girl's room. Arya hadn't yet worked herself up into an angry tantrum, and was only sitting on her bed in an unhappy simmer.

"If you'd like to rip off this dress and throw it in the mud tomorrow morning, by all means, go ahead," Ella told her, holding the garment out to her. "Just put it on and pretend to like it."

"Why can't I just wear one of my normal dresses?"

"You have to look nice for the King and Queen."

"Why?"

"Why not?" Ella shot back, hands on her hips.

"They're guests in _our_ home. _They_ should be dressing up for _us_."

"But that's not the way things work."

Arya snatched the gown out of Ella's hand. "It should be," she grumbled, but stood with her arms raised and allowed Ella to pull her dress over the top of her head. "Do you have to do my hair as well?"

"Of course," Ella responded, not looking up from the ties of Arya's gown. "It's all pulled out from your stint with the helmet earlier."

"Do you think Father's still angry with me about that?"

"Your Father? No, though I might avoid your mother for a while, if I were you."

Arya mumbled her agreement. It was quiet in the room for a moment, besides the shuffling in the corner where Nymeria was making herself comfortable. Ella considered herself lucky, that Arya opted to give her the silent treatment instead of being utterly uncooperative. It might be a few days before Arya talked to her, but so long as she got into her dress and allowed her hair to be brushed and tied up, Ella could live with that. She knew that some part of her was trying to show Catelyn that she was capable. For whatever reason, Ella felt the need to prove herself to the Lady of Winterfell.

They'd left once they were ready and walked together to the Great Hall – but that was where Ella fell behind. Walking into the Great Hall was like being hit by a wall. The scent of food was overpowering, and made her stomach churn so badly that she was convinced she was going to keel over and vomit right there. She reeled back, turning away from the doors and taking a deep breath. It didn't make sense to her – she'd been feeling fine all day, and she was hungry, so why did the scent of food make her want to throw up?

Only, she didn't feel very hungry any more. The thought of going in there, of smelling the food, and seeing, and tasting it, all made her want to retch. Robb came down the hall towards her, smiling when he reached her, and took her by the arm.

"Were you waiting for me?" he asked, and gave her a peck on the cheek. She felt clammy and unwell, but he didn't seem to notice.

She decided not to worry him. "I…yes. Yes, I was."

He brought her into the Great Hall and sat her down next to him. She pushed the plate away from her, instead grabbing the goblet of wine in front of her. She brought it up to her lips tentatively, and took a sip. Good – wine was good, she could drink it, and the smell of it didn't make her feel sick. She sipped at her wine instead of eating, and Robb didn't seem to notice. He talked and laughed with Theon, picking off of her plate once his was empty and resting his hand casually on her thigh.

Her night was spent sitting idly and observing the people around her. Her stomach never settled, and really, she'd have considered the night better spent if she were lying in bed. She knew, however, that there would come a time during the night that it would be acceptable for her to excuse herself and retire to bed. The only matter was how to pass the time until that time came.

Across the room, Ella could see the King, arms wrapped around a tipsy serving girl, pressing a sloppy kiss to her mouth. The sight made her stomach clench, the burn of vile at the base of her throat, and she resigned herself to staring at the bottom of her goblet. The sight of food still made her sick. When her wine was all gone, she had half a mind to ask for more and keep drinking until she was sick. At least then her stomach would feel settled.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Robb tugged at her arm.

"Come with me," he told her, smiling. "There's someone I want you to meet."

She stood gingerly and walked slowly, feeling as if moving too quickly might jar her stomach the wrong way. When Robb brought her to the side of the room, where his father and a man she didn't know were standing, she felt herself become shy.

"Uncle Benjen!" he greeted happily, pulling his uncle into a hug.

"How are you?" she heard him ask.

"I'm good." He pulled away, and gently took her hand to tug her forward. "This is my wife, Ella."

She gave Benjen a bashful smile, and he smiled kindly in return. "I'm glad to meet you," he told her. "It's good to have another member of the family."

_What in the world do I possibly say to that? _Ella despaired, feeling her cheeks get warm. She could've kissed Robb when he began to speak.

"I wanted to bring her to meet you," he continued. They made idle conversation for a little while, and Robb's hand in hers and later his arm around her waist helped her to feel more comfortable. She found that Benjen was kind, like his brother, but before long, Robb and Ella had returned to their table.

"_Arya_!"

If Ella had a Gold Dragon for each time she'd heard Sansa screech, she'd be richer than the Lannisters. All heads turned to the other end of the table, and Theon and Robb began to laugh when they spotted Sansa with a spot of food on their cheek, Arya grinning mischievously from the other side of the table. Ella would have scolded them, except she began to laugh, too, and tried to hide it behind her hand.

Robb was quick to stop laughing, though, catching his mother's eye and sighing before he stood and pulled Arya away from the table.

"Time for bed," he told her, and she groaned. Ella watched as they trailed for the door, and it wasn't until they were nearly gone that she realized that it was her chance to leave. She shot up from the table, momentarily ignoring the way her stomach rolled uncomfortably.

"Excuse me," she said quickly to anyone who might've been listening, and hurried over to catch them. "Robb!" Both he and Arya turned, just in the doorway of the Great Hall. "Go back to the feast," she told him. "You were having a good time, and I should get to sleep, anyways."

Robb kissed her quickly. "Behave," he said to Arya, who rolled her eyes, before giving Ella a smile and returning to the feast.

"You've saved me," Ella muttered under her breath, leading Arya down the hall. "I was dying to get out of there."

"Weren't you having fun?"

"Not at all. I'd rather be asleep, honestly."

"I'd rather be outside," Arya said, sounding wistful. Before long, Arya had been dropped off at her chamber and Ella was alone. The more she walked, the more her stomach rolled, and the nausea became crippling. She leaned against the wall for a moment, head resting on the stone and hand rubbing circles on her upset stomach.

"Ella?" Jon was coming up on her, looking worried. "You look unwell."

"I can't walk further. I'm going to be sick."

Grimacing, he carefully pulled her away from the wall and into his arms, beginning down the hall and trying not to jostle her too much. "If you need to throw up, let me know, and I'll put you down."

"Just here in the hall?"

"Someone will come along and clean it up."

She felt bad at the thought of someone cleaning her sick from a corner of the hall, and decided to try as well as she could to keep the contents of her stomach from spilling over. She occupied her mind with other things, like why Jon wasn't at the feast. She'd have asked, but she was afraid that if she opened her mouth, she'd have been sick all over him, and decided to keep her ponderings to herself. Besides, Jon seemed to have things on his mind as well.

As soon as Jon set her down outside her chambers, he asked if she'd like him to fetch Robb.

"I'll be fine. I probably had too much wine at the feast." A lie, because she'd only had one goblet, but Jon didn't need to know. Something about her sudden sickness made her feel worried, but she couldn't quite figure out why. She gave him a kind smile, but suspected that it came out as more of a grimace. "Thank you. And really, don't worry. I'm sure I'll be better come morning."

She went forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek, then turned and entered her chambers. Loosening the stays of her dress helped, and taking all of her clothes off all together was a sweet relief, and made the nausea fade a little.

Grey Wind seemed to know that she wasn't feeling well, and clambered off the bed to nudge her legs. She stooped slightly to rub at his ears, then slipped naked under the furs and didn't protest when the wolf climbed in next to her, curling up to her and resting his head on her thigh. She fell asleep with the candles still light and Robb not yet back from the feast.

**A/N: So yeah that was kind of a gross chapter oops. **

**I will never stop being sorry that chapters take so damn long. I'm going to try and work on that, I promise. I never expected that this chapter would take so long, but it did. I swear that I will never stop writing this, no matter how long updates may take. I've put too much planning into this to stop now. **

**And also this is coming up on it's one year anniversary and that's crazy! Hopefully I'll have at least one more chapter up before then. **

**cloudgirl9: I think they've finally both realized, 'Hey, I'm married to an attractive person. We're sharing the same bed every single night. Why is sex not a thing that's happening?' So, yeah. :P Thanks for the review!**

**Jetta: Thanks! I try to keep it as realistic as possible, let me know if anything goes out of wack!**

**leapylion3: Thank you! I swear, I feel like I'm writing Robb so out of character, it's nice to have reassurance that I'm doing something right. I like to imagine that Theon lurks around Winterfell waiting for a chance to put in a smart remark. I hope this chapter was to your satisfaction!**

**Lobo de Fuego: Trust me, even in the hard times, I'll find something for them to smile about. If I don't keep a certain amount of brightness among my characters, I go a little crazy. It'll be hard though, considering all the bad things that happen. And I won't lie, there will be times when everyone and everything is just really freaking sad.**

**kt: At least you don't have to write all of those things. ;_; I don't know why I chose Game of Thrones to write about I could've gotten into My Little Pony and written about that but noooo I had to choose the series where everyone dies and no one is happy. And now I'm in too deep to stop. (Oh, ignore me, I'm secretly enjoying it.)**

**Thanks to EVERYONE who's reviewed. Even if I haven't responded, I've still read it. Every review I get means so much you guys, seriously. And remember, reviews are like guilt trips - if I haven't updated in a while, just review, because then I'll be like AAH WOW SOMEONE REVIEWED AND I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN SO LONG I'M SO SORRY and then I open up a word document and write my fingers off.**

**And, as always, a big thanks to everyone who's followed and faved. Seriously, that means so much to me. I won't get on your case about not reviewing because there are so many stories that I follow that I haven't reviewed on so I'd be a hypocrite if I tried to guilt trip you about that. Just knowing that I have as many readers as I do is simply mindboggling. And considering that there are so many people who are still reading even though chapters are rarely edited and updates take so damn long...**

**You, my friends, are the greatest people in the world, I have no doubts. Thank you all so much, it truly means the world.**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	15. Fifteen

XV

She woke to Robb's lips on her neck.

"Where are your clothes?" he asked, chuckling.

"I didn't want them on anymore," she replied. She kept her eyes closed and curled in a tighter ball. Her stomach still wasn't settled.

"You'll be cold," he warned.

"That's why I have you."

He said nothing, only chuckled again and began to kiss down her neck, over her shoulder. He reached and turned her onto her back, but she grimaced and placed a hand on his chest.

"I'm ill," she responded, feeling a horrible lump in her throat. _Please, please, don't be sick all over Robb._

"Are you alright?" He placed a hand on her forehead. "You don't feel feverish, but you are pale. Do you want me to find Maester Luwin?"

"In the morning, perhaps," she said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back down onto the bed when he began to leave. "If I don't feel better by then. For now, I'd rather sleep."

He seemed alright with that, because he settled down next to her comfortably. If she lied just still, her stomach wasn't so bad. She'd actually managed to fall into sleep again, until Grey Wind stepped on her stomach sometime during the night and she'd barely made it over the side of the bed before she was sick.

Robb was next to her almost instantly, pulling her hair over her shoulder and gently reprimanding Grey Wind. The pup sat at the foot of their bed, looking guilty and bewildered. When Ella was finished, he pulled her carefully back onto the bed, tucking the furs over her as she wiped her mouth.

"I'll get Analysa to clean up the mess," he told her, rising from the bed.

"And some water please," she added, grimacing at the vile taste in her mouth. Grey Wind cuddled into her side, seeming apologetic, and Robb returned soon enough with Analysa in tow. The petite maid fretted after her for only a moment before dutifully attending to the mess on the floor.

"I'll fetch the Maester in a moment," Robb said, and handed a cup of water to Ella.

"Oh, Robb, please." She set the cup down once she took a drink. "I feel so much better now. Please, all I want to do is sleep. Bring him in the morning, if you must, but for now I only want to sleep."

Robb gave her a look, telling her that she was stubborn and he was worried, but she remained steadfast. All she wanted was to go back to bed, rest her sore-feeling stomach, and perhaps sleep in the next morning. She didn't want Robb or Analysa or Maester Luwin to bother her, and thought for a moment about luring them out of the room and then locking them there.

Deciding that it was too much effort, Ella simply ignored Robb's look. She turned onto her side, toying with the fur behind Grey Wind's ears absently and letting her eyes fall shut. Her stomach felt wonderfully empty, and the muscles were weak from heaving and retching. She was serious when she said all she'd like to do was sleep.

Analysa was gone soon enough, leaving Ella with a kiss on her forehead, and Ella heard Robb pace for a few moments before he sighed and settled down in bed again. A triumphant smile tugged at her lips, and she fell asleep again.

The third time she woke up, it was finally because she felt fully rested. Stretching, she realized that she felt perfectly fine, perhaps even good, despite the soreness in her stomach. She sat and realized that she was alone in the room, and wondered vaguely how long she'd slept in. Something told her that she'd missed breakfast.

A fire was popping idly in the hearth, and she felt perfectly content while she dressed and brushed her hair. She felt like she probably should've gone down and make it known that she was awake, but instead, she'd loosely tied one of her casual dresses and curled up on her chair with a small easel and some paints balanced on the arm, her bare feet tucked beneath her.

"There you are." She looked up from the canvas, now half-covered with paint. Robb closed the door behind him. "I was wondering when you'd wake. I was going to check on you and then have Maester Luwin come look at you."

"No, none of that," Ella waved her hand. "I feel fine now. I probably had too much wine last night."

"You're sure?" he asked, kneeled at her side to be at her level. She smiled at him.

"I'm sure." Their lips met in a chaste kiss, and Robb stood.

"Are you hungry?"

"No, actually. Perhaps by lunchtime." She smiled up at him. "Sit with me."

He obliged her, settling down in the seat across from her and toeing off his boots, setting them to warm by the fire. "What are you painting?" he asked.

Ella shrugged. "I dunno yet. I was just…painting."

Something about that made Robb chuckle, and he watched her as she painted, eyes focused and moving carefully over the canvas. He chewed on the inside of his lip, shifting in his seat every so often. After a few moments, she set the brush down and examined the canvas carefully, before she seemed to notice Robb's eyes on her, and looked up at him.

"What?" she asked, giving him a look. He smiled.

"Nothing."

Their eyes were locked on each other, and she giggled. "Really, what is it?"

"Nothing!" he replied, laughing. She set the canvas carefully on the arm of the chair and slid off of her seat, sitting on the floor and stretching out her legs to kick at him. Robb chuckled, sliding to the floor as well, and the two took lunch by the fire laughing.

When dinnertime rolled around, Ella was hesitant to return to the dining hall, although she was careful not to let Robb know her worries. She clenched tighter to his arm when they entered the hall, and she let out a breath that she didn't realize she was holding when the scent of food made her stomach rumble pleasantly, and not jump into her throat like the night before. Robb noticed her hand tightening around his arm, and looked down at her questioningly.

Ella only smiled up at him, rising to her toes for a moment to kiss his cheek and then his lips.

* * *

><p>She wasn't sure what exactly it was that woke her, but she knew that she wasn't going back to sleep any time soon. Not if the itch between her thighs had anything to say about it. Her face crumpled in a grimace, and she bit her lip and very carefully reached down to rub a bit at her flesh, careful not to wake Robb beside her. She let out a shuddering breath, hand going limp when she realized that her own hand would be futile. It was one of those times, those that frustrated her endlessly when she was younger, when she could rub herself raw and still not be satiated.<p>

She turned her head to make sure Robb was still asleep, and her eye caught on his groin. Well, there was no better time than then to put his dawn arousal to good use. Carefully, she lifted herself and threw a leg over him, hovering above his torso and leaning down to kiss him awake. He took her gently by the arms, and blinked up at her sleepily, confused, when she pulled away.

"Ella?"

"_Please_, Robb," she whispered, burying her face into his neck, and ground her hips down on his. He groaned low in his throat, hands moving to her thighs to lift the edges of her nightgown, and she lowered a hand to tug at the laces of his breeches. She caught his lips in a kiss again and sank down onto him, and they groaned into each other's mouths. Ella pulled away slightly, swallowing and burying her face into Robb's neck again, rolling her hips on top of his. He had a hand holding tight to her hip, the other beneath her gown and trailing softly up and down her back. The hand on her hip moved, trailing to the spot where they met, and Ella arched her back.

"_Yes_," she hissed, eyes closed tight, and he pressed tender kisses to her neck. Her hips sped up slightly, rocking against his, and she whined. Her arms wound around his neck, forehead pressing against his, and every so often she'd press a kiss to his cheek between moans. It wasn't long before her breath hitched, and her hand moved to clutch his shoulder.

"Robb - !" he silenced her with a deep kiss, and her breathing sped up, hands tight on his shoulders, until finally she sighed and went limp in his arms, eyes closed. He turned them so they were lying on their sides towards each other, and she closed her eyes sleepily, cuddling closer to him.

"Thank you," she whispered, so softly he almost didn't hear, and he kissed her hair, pulling her to his chest. The light of early morning was coming through the shutters of the window, and in the back of their minds, both Robb and Ella knew that it wouldn't be long before they had to rouse themselves to face a new day.

"I have to go hunting later," Robb said quietly into the skin of her neck.

"Mm…" She pressed her back closer to his chest. "Can't we stay in again today?"

"I'm afraid not." He chuckled, and his warm breath tickled the spot where her neck and shoulder met. She giggled involuntarily and pulled away slightly.

"Not there," she warned, and had the feeling that Robb was getting a devious look. He very lightly brushed the spot with his teeth, and Ella gasped quite loudly, back arching as she pulled away and turned to face him. "You _know_ I'm ticklish there!" she reprimanded. Robb smiled.

"Aye, I do." He moved towards her, but she gently slapped his chest. "Oh, come," he chuckled, voice still husky from sleep. "Let's go back to bed. It's still a while before we need to be up."

His arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her back against his chest, kissing dangerously close to her ticklish spot on purpose. "G'night, love," he whispered, and she twined her hand with his, bringing it up to her lips.

* * *

><p>"You don't need to dress me," Robb sighed. "I've been fine on my own all this time."<p>

"It's a wife's duty to care for her husband, isn't it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, but not looking up from the laces of his doublet. Robb decided that it wasn't worth arguing, and instead sighed and leaned forward to kiss her forehead when she'd finished.

"What do we say to our loving wife who does so much for us?" she asked, standing back and crossing her arms.

"Thank you, loving wife who does so much for me." She pulled the cloak from the wardrobe and handed it to him. When he'd draped it over his shoulders, Ella took it upon herself to smooth her hands over his shoulders. "How do I look?"

"The prettiest husband I've ever had." She lifted herself onto her toes and kissed him. "Go. Don't keep them waiting."

"We'll be back before dinner, I'm sure," he said, stooping to scratch Grey Wind behind the ears before heading out the door. Ella smiled and closed the door behind him. The room was silent for a moment, and then she put her hand on her hips and looked down at Grey Wind, who was sitting dutifully at her feet.

"Well? How shall we spend the day, hmm?" The pup gave her a confused look, cocking his head. "Hmm. That's what I thought."

She sat at the desk and stared blankly at the half-covered canvas for a moment; another wolf. Ever since she'd received the canvas and paints four months prior, she'd only completed two paintings that weren't of wolves. Biting her lip, she took the canvas from the easel and balled it up, tossing it flippantly into the fire.

_A crane,_ she thought. _I'll draw a crane._ And it had begun as a crane, but Ella was really no good at painting birds, so she opened her green paint and turned it into grass instead. Before she knew it, she was painting Coldocean again, the view of the beach from the surrounding cliffs. She'd just begun to paint the ocean when there was a tug at the hem of her dress. When she looked down, Grey Wind was staring up at her, shifting and whining.

"Oh, what is it? You went out already this morning, and you've eaten." The pup whined again. Sighing, Ella put down the paintbrush and stood, looking under the desk and beneath the bed for the only toy that Robb allowed Grey Wind to have. She was put off that the pup only had one lousy toy, but Robb was persistent.

"He's a wolf, Ella," he'd said. "If he needs something to do, he's got five siblings to play with."

He had a point, but Ella liked to pamper Grey Wind. It made Robb angry sometimes, because he said it interfered with his training, but Grey Wind followed each of her commands to the word. Well, usually. On occasion, Grey Wind would ignore her command and go about other, more important things, like licking himself.

"Here, you cry baby," she said, pulling the toy from beneath Robb's chair. Grey Wind hopped, and if wolves could smile, she supposed that the pup would be grinning. Ella went over to the door, opening it and peering outside a moment before throwing the raggedy toy down the hall. Grey Wind nearly tripped her in his haste to get out of the room and run after his toy.

Sighing, Ella sat herself in the doorway and waited for Grey Wind to return his toy, throwing it out into the hallway again. She leaned her head back against the doorframe, closing her eyes and realizing that she was more than ready for her nap. She knew, though, that if she stopped playing with Grey Wind, he'd bother her incessantly until Robb returned.

Eventually, the pup had worn himself out, setting his toy down and sitting very calmly by her side. Ella tossed the toy back into the room, standing and gathering the heavy pup into her arms and kicking the door closed behind her.

"Are you ready for a nap, puppy?" Grey Wind burrowed his head in her chest, looking up at her with big eyes. She settled on the bed, the pup resting on her chest. "I'll take that as a yes, then?" She yawned, then lifted herself enough to kiss Grey Wind on the tip of his nose.

Light was still filtering in through the window, but Ella was too tired to get up and close the shutters. Perhaps she might miss lunch, but she was feeling sick and tired that day, anyways, so skimping out on extra sleep to eat food she didn't want to eat didn't seem worth it at all to Ella. And besides, Grey Wind seemed to find her a comfortable bed, and a growing pup needed his rest. She didn't have the heart to move him when he was dozing.

Ella was just drifting off when there was a frantic knocking at the door. Grey Wind startled awake and hurried off of the bed to the door. Ella swung her legs over the side of the bed and moved over to the door grumpily. When she pulled it open, Analysa was standing before her, out of breath and red in the face, eyes wet with tears and looking frazzled.

"Oh my Lady," she panted, voice shaking. "My Lady, please, you must come. They need you. It's Bran, my Lady, he's fallen."

**A/N: Today is a very special day, you guys!**

**Oh, gosh. I'm getting emotional. Hold on.**

**It's really really hard to believe that it's been a year since I posted this. I remember having absolutely no clue where I was going to go with this story, and now it's basically planned out to the end and that's crazy. Above all, though, when I posted this a year ago, I never expected that it would be received the way it is. I know I tell you all literally every chapter, but your amazing support is what keeps this story going. I am so grateful for everyone who's read this. There are a lot of people, I know, who've been reading this from the very beginning, and that's seriously astounding that you'd hang on this long. I have so much love for EVERYONE who's read and reviewed and faved and added to alerts. Seriously, you all mean the world to me. If it weren't for all of you, I'd have lost motivation a long time ago, and this story would be a dusty old thing lying abandoned in my documents. Trust me, I'm never going to quit this until it's done. No matter what. I've put too much time and effort into this to ever stop.**

**Gosh, I just...a whole freaking year, you know? That's a long time. This story is like my baby. I'm really glad that I've got all of you to watch it grow up, and to support me and just algjk****alkfj;adlskfj;****sdkfjsd YOU GUYS I LOVE YOU**

**Okay. I'm okay. Let's talk about the chapter and the story now, shall we?**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I would've had it up a while ago, but I wanted to post a chapter on the one year anniversary. Thanks for being patient!**

**(Also, please tell me how you liked that little love scene. I've had it written for a while and decided to throw it in as an anniversary treat. I get really nervous with these so let me know how I did, maybe?)**

**I wanted to make this chapter especially happy. Especially considering the way the chapter ended. Yikes.**

**Thanks so, _so_ much for reading, everyone. I can't put into words what it means to me. **

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	16. Sixteen

**A/N: You got off lucky this time! I was going to wait until the 31st and upload the new chapter as a celebration but then I decided that I wanted to upload this sooner instead of later.**

XVI

There was a horrible sinking feeling in Ella's chest. _Bran fell_. What did that mean? Children fell all the time, why was Analysa looking so worried?

"What?" She'd barely breathed the word before the petite maid grabbed her hand and tugged her from the room, hurrying down the hall. Ella clutched her skirts in her hand, the other holding tight to Analysa, and the faint sickness she'd felt all morning was becoming more potent and horrible in the pit of her stomach. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest, thumping against her ribs. Her head swam with dreadful thoughts.

There was a ruckus in the hall surrounding Bran's room. Catelyn was shouting things and pushing her way into the room, Maester Luwin in tow. Sansa was there, her cheeks wet and her eyes red, and she barreled into Ella once she reached them. Arya was shaking, but stood silently against the wall, Nymeria at her feet. Ella wrapped her arms around Sansa, who was crying into her shoulder.

The door to Bran's room closed and the only sound in the hall were Sansa's muffled sobbing. It took a few moments before Ella regained her bearings, and she led Sansa over so they could sit by the door and motioned for Arya to join them. Arya swallowed, head shaking just a fraction.

"Have they sent for the boys?" Ella asked, looking up at Analysa.

"Once we found out. They should be here soon."

"What time is it? Past lunch? Rickon should be napping."

"Yes, m'lady. Septa Mordane is with him."

_What next, what next?_ Ella thought. _What do the girls need?_ "Bring us water, please."

Analysa curtsied hurriedly before scurrying down the hall. Ella pulled Sansa closer to her side, brushing the young girl's hair from her red face. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" she asked softly.

"W-we were all in M-Mother's room, and she was t-talking with Septa Mordane. A-Arya and I were looking out the window and -" Sansa's words caught in her throat and she took a shaking breath, breaking into another round of sobs. Ella shushed her softly, running her hand over the young Stark's hair and rocking her slowly. She had to admit, she was worried for Arya, who remained completely silent and shaking on the other side of the hallway, hands clenching and unclenching in Nymeria's fur. She felt tears rise in her eyes and a lump form in her throat, and she buried her face in Sansa's hair.

After a few minutes, Analysa returned with their water, which Ella handed to Sansa to sip. When Analysa was gone again, Ella asked Arya if she'd like to join them. Arya seemed to have been shocked out of her stupor when Ella asked, and nodded slowly before moving over to sit next to them. She sat too far from them for Ella to reach over and give her comfort, so she could only grimace and hope that Nymeria, who was curled next to Arya, would be comfort enough.

Ella wasn't sure how long they were sat in front of Bran's door, but is seemed like years later when there were hurried footsteps coming down the hall, and all of a sudden Lord Stark was rounding the corner, sparing the girls a glance before wrenching open the door and disappearing within. Robb and Jon were stood at the mouth of the hallway, staring down at the girls.

"What happened?" Robb asked, seeming out of breath. Sansa looked from him to Ella before taking a shaking breath.

"Me and Arya..." She paused to gather herself. "We saw him fall." That was all, it seemed, that she was willing to say. She slumped against Ella's side again, resting her head on the older girl's shoulder.

Arya stood and moved over to Jon, wrapping her arms around his middle and burying her face in his shirt. Jon's face was still a mask of shock, but he wrapped his arms around his sister and pulled her into his lap when he sat across from Ella and Sansa. Robb sat next to him, and the hall fell into silence again until Rickon peeked his head around the corner. A sniffle alerted his siblings to his presence, and Robb opened his arms to invite Rickon to come to him.

"What's happened to Bran?" he asked, settling in his brother's lap. Robb sighed, running his hand over Rickon's hair.

"Where's Septa Mordane?"

"I left when she wasn't looking."

"You should still be napping." Robb took a deep breath, and it was easy to see that he was trying to give Rickon a feeling of normalcy, to distract him from asking anymore questions about Bran. He gave his brother a watery smile. "You have to get lots of sleep so you can grow big like Father."

Ella had expected the youngest Stark to protest, to complain that Septa Mordane was boring and that he never had any fun around her. Instead, however, he simply made himself comfortable in Robb's lap and sat contented and quiet, hands folded in his lap. They were quiet for a good long while, no one quite up to speaking. To be honest, no one could find any words to say.

"I'm hungry," Rickon said, voice very small and quiet, like he was afraid to interrupt the peace in the hallway. Robb sighed, and licked his lips before looking very serious.

"Then let's eat," he said, standing and placing Rickon's hand in his. "All of us. Come on."

No one really looked in an eating mood, but they all stood nonetheless, Sansa still glued to Ella's side and Ella's hand twining in Robb's free one. Jon and Arya trailed in the back, and together they all made their way to the great hall. Until they reached the hall, they'd all but forgotten that the King and his company were present in Winterfell. There was halfhearted chatter in the hall until the Starks appeared in the doorway, and then the noise dropped to murmuring, and they found that more eyes were on them than they felt comfortable with.

They all sat together, even Jon, who'd looked reluctant at first but eventually sat because no one told him not to. Plates were piled with food, but it was only picked at. Ella had eaten only a small handful before she decided that she'd be sick all over if she ate anymore. Instead, she turned to Sansa, who's only stared at her plate, and attempted to get her to eat.

"I'm _not hungry_," Sansa insisted quietly, and Ella frowned.

"I know," she said, rubbing the younger girl's arms. "But you need something in your stomach. Just a bite or two, for me?"

Sansa obliged by taking a forkful of meat and stuffing it in her mouth, chewing miserably before swallowing with a grimace. She pushed her plate away, slumping again against Ella's side. The door to the great hall opened again, and the room fell almost completely silent when Ned appeared in the doorway. He paused, sighing when he realized the room had gone quiet in his presence, then swept off to the head table. The Stark children watched as he leaned in very close to the King. They exchanged words for a moment, the King nodding several times and putting a firm hand on Ned's shoulder. Lord Stark came to their table next, towering above them all and looking at a loss for words.

"Father?" Robb prompted, brow creased in worry.

"He will live," Ned stated firmly. "But beyond that, we know not much else." It was only then that his shoulders slumped, only enough for them to notice, and he let out a long breath. "Your mother and I will remain with him for the night."

After that, he gave his children a halfhearted smile before turning and leaving the great hall. They were all quiet for a moment, staring down at their plates. Robb was the first to stand, and everyone followed suit and trailed after him as they left the great hall. It wasn't long before they were all sat in front of Bran's door again. When they thought about it, what were they supposed to do? Go on with their lives, eat and sing and paint and play like usual while Bran was in the room and no one really knew what was going to happen to him?

It made Ella's heart clench. _He will live_, Ned had said. Did she always know, deep inside of her, the real gravity of the situation? He fell, he fell, that was all she was told before. She supposed that she'd just assumed how bad things were when Sansa and Arya were shaking and crying, when Catelyn shoved her way into Bran's room and the glimpse of her face that Ella had caught made her heart stop. Something horrible, horrible had happened to poor Bran. He would live, but what else? Would he be the same? When he woke up – would we wake up? – would he still be the same happy boy who liked to climb and shoot arrows?

It _just wasn't fair_! Ella clenched her teeth and suddenly felt angry. It wasn't fair, that Bran - of all people, Bran! - would have fallen. Why not someone else? And why couldn't he be awake? She wanted to throw something, to hit someone, to yell and rage until Bran was better.

But she didn't. She held Sansa tighter against her side, kissing her hair, and letting her eyes trail over the others to make sure they were all there. She'd be damned if something happened to them, too. All through the night, they sat outside Bran's door, waiting for news even though none came. It was all for the better, Ella thought. This way, she could keep an eye on the others, on her Starks, and it wasn't like any of them would have been able to sleep, anyways.

Little Rickon, no doubt not entirely understanding what had happened that day, was the only one who slept that night, curled in Robb's lap. All the others just kept silent. There wasn't any talking, even about something stupid like the weather. Just sitting and staring at the floor or at the fire burning on the torches that lit the hall.

Sometime not long before sunrise, Lord Stark exited the room. All eyes snapped to him, wide and begging for news, and he sighed. "Have you been here all night? Off to bed, you lot." He lifted Rickon from Robb's arms and gave Sansa a kiss on the forehead before shooing them down the hall.

Robb already had his arms open when Ella came to him. She buried her face in his chest and only let herself indulge in his comfort for a moment before she pulled away and took his hand so they could go back to their chambers.

They were still silent as they bolted the door, loosening ties and letting clothes fall to the floor, not bothering to pick any of it up, shedding their layers until they were in their underclothes. They went to their sides of the bed, and Ella paused for a moment before getting on her knees on the mattress, reaching for Robb's arms to pull him to her. They pressed their foreheads together, eyes closed and breaths fluttering against each other's skin in the dark of the room.

"Come here," he whispered, lying down and pulling her down to lie against him, wrapping his arms around her middle and kissing her forehead, then her cheeks. It didn't take them long to fall into a tentative sleep, curled against each other.

The blue hued light of the early morning was shining in through the cracks in the shutters when Robb started awake, breathing labored and cheeks wet. Ella woke, too, blinking sleepily for a moment before she realized what had happened. Her face crumpled in sympathy, and she pulled him closer. He latched onto her eagerly, sniffing and taking gasping breaths.

"It's alright," she told him quietly, even though she didn't really know if it was alright, if anything would ever be alright again, because over the past few hours, it hadn't felt like it. He rested his head on her chest, soothed by the heartbeat fluttering beneath his ear. Ella ran one hand through his curls, the other trailing softly down his back. His breathing was still uneven from crying, and she calmed him as best she could, murmuring sweetly to him until his breathing slowed and she was sure he was asleep.

* * *

><p>It was no doubt late in the morning when they woke. Robb was still cradled against her chest, and he rested his chin on her breastbone when he woke, staring up at her with sleepy eyes. She wasn't fully awake just yet, her eyes not even opened, but she could tell that he was watching her.<p>

"What do you want?" she asked, voice slurred from sleep and a lazy smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"To watch you wake up," he said quietly, kissing the skin at the top of her breast. She reached to smooth her hand over his hair and down his cheek, and cracked an eye open.

"Tomorrow morning, then. I'm already awake." She opened her eyes fully, smiling down at him, before hooking her fingers under his chin and pulling him up to kiss him. When they pulled apart, he relaxed against her breast again, stubble on his cheek scratching against her skin.

"We should get up," he said, but neither of them seemed inclined to move. Inside of their bedchamber, they didn't have to remember the horrible things that happened in the outside world. They didn't have to face the truth of what had happened to Bran, didn't have to deal with their family and the King all at once.

Eventually, there was a knock on the door. Robb sighed and rolled off of Ella, tugging on pants before opening the door. Ella couldn't see who he was talking to at the door, but she sat up and looked over the side of her bed for her underdress. She and Robb had been too drained to change into their nightclothes, and she was left clad only in her underclothes, the translucent cloth chemise that went under her corset and cotton underpants. She'd only just found her sheer underdress and pulled it over her head when Robb turned back into the room and closed the door behind him, Rickon on his hip and clothes in his hand.

"We have a guest today," he said, moving over to the bed and plopping Rickon down on the mattress, making the boy giggle. "This one's our responsibility today."

"Good morning," Ella greeted, leaning over the boy and giving him a smile. Rickon smiled up at her.

"Good morning, Ella!" Rickon was still in his nightclothes, no doubt brought over by Septa Mordane to them so they could care for him while she was taking care of the girls. Ella had no clue where Catelyn or Ned were, but figured that they'd be with Bran still. There was a scratching as the door, and Ella had only just gotten Rickon's nightshirt over his head when Robb opened the door and Grey Wind and Shaggydog came barreling in the room.

Rickon called excitedly for his pup, and both Grey Wind and Shaggydog jumped up onto the bed. Both were growing quite big, and with both of them plus Ella and Rickon on the bed, Robb barely had any room to sit down. Ella handed Rickon's clothes to Robb, instructing him to finish dressing his brother while she stood and picked up their discarded clothes from the night before, throwing it all over the dressing screen before moving over to the wardrobe to pick out a fresh dress.

"Hurry up and dress, Ella! Let's play!" Rickon called, and she chuckled, tying the stays of her corset – loosely, today, because she was feeling bloated and tender. She lifted herself on her toes and peeked over the screen.

"What are we going to play, hmm?"

"Something inside," Robb said. "It's raining again."

Rickon pouted. "But I like it when it rains," he whined. Ella came from behind the screen and smiled at them, tying the belt on her dress.

"Mm, I think you and I both remember what happened last time." She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"That was fun!" he insisted, pulling Shaggydog into his lap.

"Was it? Lying all sick and miserable in bed? That was fun, was it?" she teased, grinning and moving forward to tickle his sides. Shaggydog fled from Rickon's lap when he fell over on the bed.

"Save me, Robb!" the boy shrieked, and Robb rescued him gladly, picking up his brother and tossing him over his shoulder. Ella watched them play for a moment, glad that for a short while, the boys were able to forget the state of their brother. She was glad to stay inside of their chambers. Something about going out would ruin the illusion that things were fine. Perhaps it was selfish, but she wanted to spare herself the distress of facing the truth that something horrible had happened just hours before.

She fell back against the pillows, propping her bare feet on the bed and smiling idly as she watched the boys play. It wasn't long before they were back on the bed again, Robb lying down and resting, worn out by his brother. Rickon was still bursting with energy, bouncing on the bed and calling down to the pups on the floor, getting them riled up. Pretty soon, Ella knew, they would all be getting hungry, and they would have no choice but to leave the bedchamber and face the world outside. She reached and grabbed Robb's hand, giving it a good squeeze to comfort herself. At the very least, if she was going to face the world outside, with its complications and worriment, she was going to make sure that he was there to face it with her.

**A/N: A bit of a cheesy ending, sorry. I love cheese but not in my stories. But, come on, sometimes it can't be helped. **

**Anyways! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. It made me sad a lot while I was writing it. I actually kind of hope it made you sad, too. That way, I know I've done my job. **

**As per usual, this chapter is unedited, sorry. I'll probably reread this tomorrow morning and work out some of the kinks. I caught as much as I could, but I have a bad habit of editing right before bed. I know, I should get a beta so these chapters are a lot better for you all. I'll look into it once I have free time on my hands. If anyone has any offers to beta, please let me know! I (and your fellow readers, I'm sure) would really appreciate it!**

**Eva1983: Thank you! I'm trying to keep this at a realistic pace. I'm really glad you're enjoying this so far! Thank you for your feedback!**

**NatalieH: Thank you! I do my best. I'm a very lazy editor, though, so I'm glad my mistakes haven't distracted from the overall story.**

**ThatGirl54: I wonder, I wonder... we'll just have to wait and find out, won't we? ;) Thank you!**

**A huge thanks to everyone for all of the support! It really means the world to me, I mean it. Thanks so much for sticking with me this far. Y'all deserve a cake or something. **

**Don't forget that reviewing boosts my self-esteem! And feedback is always valued - I will gladly accept any criticism you have for me! **

**Thanks for reading!**

**Until next time.**

**-Rex**


	17. Seventeen

**A/N: So both this and the last chapter haven't taken me nearly as long to write as the others have, so hopefully that means quicker updates. Yay!**

XVII

In the weeks following, things had become as normal as normal could get. Lord Stark steeled himself to bear both the burden of his family and of the King on his shoulders. Robb, in turn, took it upon himself to keep an eye on his siblings, for his mother had not yet left Bran's side, and his father was endlessly busy appeasing the King. That meant that every evening, Ella was making rounds around the castle, tucking in and kissing cheeks, before returning to her chambers to prepare herself for bed.

More often than not, she found herself with Rickon latched onto her skirts, a very worried looking furrow in his brow, lips pulled down in a pout. He'd always ask her what was wrong, what was happening, and she simply didn't know how to answer those questions. Not to him. He was too young to fully understand the gravity of the situation, but Ella knew that he wouldn't be fooled by whatever phony answer she would give him.

"Is he sleeping, Robb?" Rickon asked, climbing to settle himself in his brother's lap. He wrapped his arms around Robb's neck, looking up at him with the curious eyes of a child. "Is he sleeping so he can grow big like Father?"

Robb was brought back to their conversation the other week, when they were sat in front of Bran's door still not sure if he'd be alright, and he felt his heart sink sadly in his chest. He gave his brother a bitter smile. "That's what he's doing, little pup," he said, kissing his brother's head. "He's getting lots of sleep."

The questions became fewer after that, but never stopped completely. The boy was scared, and so he still kept on lingering near Ella and Robb. His questions were always more persistent when he was with Robb, tugging on his brother's hand and frowning up at him, wondering why his mother never came out of Bran's room or why Father was never around much anymore.

And it made Robb despair when he heard those questions. It was bad enough that any of them had to deal with this, let alone his baby brother, and it made him sad that Rickon had any reason to ask such questions in the first place. But it was also because he simply didn't know how to answer his brother's questions. He'd never been in charge of his siblings for this long before, and between making sure Sansa and Arya were taken care of and Rickon with his hand always holding tight to his brother's, Robb felt more stress on his shoulders than ever.

Ella was a help, of course, for when she wasn't with Rickon, she was with Arya or Sansa, or sometimes both at once, and making sure they didn't bicker. They were lucky that neither was particularly adventurous, and could rest assured that whenever Arya disappeared, she'd always be back in time for meals.

There was one time, however, when Arya wasn't back in time for dinner, and Robb, who'd spent all day dealing with chores and Rickon and Sansa, had nearly reached his breaking point, before Jon very calmly pulled his brother aside, gave him a few calming words, and then left to saddle his horse and find Arya. He returned about two hours later, Arya sleeping and tucked against his chest, explaining quietly that she'd been wandering in the Wolfswood and fell asleep on the ride back, before he took her up to her room to tuck her in.

Robb sighed, sitting down on the bed and rubbing his eyes. Ella pulled off her corset and over dress, eyes glued on her husband.

"I'm going to have to tell her tomorrow that she can't leave Winterfell," he sighed. "I thought she knew better. The Wolfswood isn't safe without anyone with her, especially not at night."

Ella climbed onto the bed behind her, kneading his shoulders. He let out a long breath, head dipping forward as the tension released. "I'll take her out to the archery range tomorrow. She's just looking for a distraction, because things are so busy and stressful right now. Rickon can watch, and I'm sure Sansa will spend all day with Jeyne Poole again. It'll be fine; you, Theon, and Jon can get drinks, relax for a day."

"Oh, they'll be leaving soon," he said, and Ella could feel the tension rising in his shoulders again, right under her fingers. She kissed the back of his neck, urging him to relax.

"Your father accepted the marriage arrangement?"

"He hasn't said anything, but I'm sure he will." He let out a groan when Ella found a tight knot of muscle in his shoulder. She bent to kiss his neck again.

"Get some sleep," she said, pulling on his shoulders so he'd lie down. "You have a long day tomorrow. We both do."

Once he was flat on his back, he pulled her down with him, holding her against his chest. Grey Wind, now far too big to lie on their bed, climbed on carefully and settled in the empty spot near Ella's side of the bed. He rested his head on his paws, staring at Robb and Ella with innocent looking eyes.

Just before they'd managed to fall asleep, a soft knock came at the door. Robb had shifted to answer the door, but Ella pushed him down again, urging him to get some sleep as she pulled on her sleeping gown. Rickon was standing at the door when she pulled it open, Shaggydog at his side, eyes rimmed red and a stuffed animal clutched to his chest.

"Ella?" he sniffled. "I had a bad dream. I would've gone to Papa, but..."

She shushed him softly, lifting him into her arms and closing the door once Shaggydog was inside. She beckoned Grey Wind off of the bed, and Robb, half asleep, shifted slightly to make room. Grey Wind and Shaggydog curled up together by the fire, and Rickon burrowed himself between Robb and Ella on the bed.

Robb, as per usual, was gone by the time Ella woke up the next morning. She felt nausea settled in the pit of her stomach, but was glad that she wasn't running to throw up like she had been lately. She was lucky that Robb woke so early in the morning, because that meant he wasn't there to see her running to vomit every morning. Ella knew he'd fret over her, worry himself sick that she was unwell, and that was the last thing he needed at the moment. Whenever Analysa asked, Ella said that it must've been some bad food making her stomach feel upset. Analysa had fixed her with a disbelieving look, but accepted it when Ella stuck to her story.

If she were to be honest, the sickness worried her. There were days when she'd go without meals because the mere thought made her feel nauseous. She knew, though, that there were bigger things to worry about, children that needed taken care of and a household that needed running.

She sighed, then sat up and stretched, looking down to see Rickon snuggled up to Shaggydog, who'd taken Robb's place when he left. Grey Wind, she was sure, went with his master. The wolves could scarcely be called pups anymore. They were about as big as the full grown hunting dogs kept in the kennels. It made Ella a little nervous whenever she remembered that Grey Wind wasn't fully grown yet. He was big enough as it was.

She slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to wake Rickon. She dressed and braided her hair before lying on her stomach next to Rickon, running her hand over his little tummy. "Rickon," she sang quietly, and he began to stir. "It's time to wake up, little pup."

"I don't want to," he said, rubbing his eyes and turning over to bury his face in Shaggydog's fur.

"But Arya and I were going to go shoot arrows. Didn't you want to watch?"

He turned his head just enough to peek out at her. "Is that a trick to get me out of bed?" he asked.

"It certainly is not," she chuckled. "I promise. Now, let's have you, lazy daisy. You need to be dressed if you're going to sit and watch us."

That got him roused out of bed, and she'd managed to keep him under control on their way to his chamber so she could dress him. He was a lot calmer once he was dressed, and Arya was already eating breakfast when they reached the great hall. They sat with her, Ella only picking at her food because she still felt nauseous. Rickon ate a hearty breakfast, and she was glad to see that he wasn't quite as withdrawn as he'd been lately. Arya had been happy when Ella suggested that they practice archery together; surely because she was especially upset when Robb told her she could no longer escape to the Wolfswood on her own.

Rickon had settled himself on the saddle once they were out, just like usual, and Arya hustled around to gather the bows and arrows, buckling the quiver about her hips and notching an arrow right away. Ella smiled at her, carefully notching an arrow on her bow and readying her stance. She felt the familiar rush of exhilaration run through her; it had been so long since she'd shot an arrow. She took a deep breath, pulling the bowstring back and anchoring her thumb at her jaw, gaze staring down the arrow and fixed on the target.

She pulled her hand back and released the arrow, feeling very pleased with herself when it landed near the center with a satisfying _thump_. It was just as she'd gone to pull another arrow from her quiver, though, when she felt it like a jolt through her middle, a lump forming in her throat. She paused, breathing heavily, hands shaking as she set down her bow and replaced the arrow in the quiver.

"I'll be just a moment," she choked, swallowing thickly. Neither Arya nor Rickon seemed to care much. She walked slowly, carefully to a secluded corner of the courtyard, resting her hand on her stomach and leaning against the wall. She reached up to pull her hair over her shoulder, before bending double and releasing her breakfast onto the ground.

It was such a horrible feeling, and she was glad when it was over. She stood, wiping her mouth with a shaky hand and trying to ignore the horrible taste on her tongue.

"Lady Ella," a voice came from behind her. She turned, and saw Tyrion Lannister standing at the corner, watching her with an unreadable expression. "Are you well?"

"I am," she replied. Her voice was raspy, her throat tender and sore. "Must have been something undercooked from breakfast." She tried to play off her illness with a nonchalant chuckle, but it was clear that the Lannister wasn't buying it. The strange expression remained.

"Are you sick?"

_I don't know,_ she wanted to say, _I don't know what's wrong with me so don't ask_.

"Oh, not at all. I feel much better now, actually." It wasn't a whole lie. Her throat hurt, her stomach felt tender, and she could really use a drink of water, but ultimately, she was feeling heaps better than she had all morning. Tyrion's expression remained suspicious, but he shrugged.

"I'm glad," he said, though he didn't sound particularly happy at all. "It would be unfortunate to see another Stark unwell."

It wasn't that he sounded like he was lying, but the look on his face and the tone of his voice made him think that he was saying such things for propriety's sake. "Indeed," she responded, voice quiet. She began to move past him, bowing her head respectfully. He made no move to stop her, and she thought that if she'd look behind her, she might see him staring at her, still with that unreadable expression, one that was beginning to disconcert her the more she thought of it.

She forewent a cup of water to clean her mouth, instead returning to Arya and Rickon so she didn't let them down. She still had the quiver of arrows around her hips, and was quick to pick up the bow. Aiming, Ella swallowed down the sick taste in her mouth, feeling tension in her shoulders. Something about her confrontation with Tyrion made her angry and upset and she was confused as to why. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that closing her eyes before firing an arrow was dangerous and stupid, but that was how she was feeling at the moment, so she closed her eyes and shot.

And then when she opened her eyes, the arrow was right at the center of the bull's-eye. Rickon was bouncing on his seat, shouting excitedly, and Arya was saying something behind her, but Ella wasn't really paying that much attention. She gave them distracted smiles, patting Arya on the shoulder as the girl stepped up to shoot. She set the bow down, leaning it against the fence, and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

_Damn it all, _she thought_, this was supposed to be relaxing._ And here she was, feeling emotions she couldn't even decipher rising up in her stomach, shoulders tense and feeling like she'd really rather do nothing more than go inside and smother herself with blankets and sleep until dinnertime.

She sighed, turning to look when Arya excitedly tugged on her sleeve, and smiled down at the young girl.

"I split yours, right down the middle!" she said, practically hopping. Ella smiled and felt the tension fall away from her shoulders.

"How much d'you bet I can split yours?"

* * *

><p>Robb, that idiot, was already gone that morning, even when she'd told him not to leave. <em>It wasn't his fault, <em>a part of her thought_. He's been under stress and forgets easily_. But the other part of her thought, _he's a man, men are good at forgetting_. So, not feeling quite as sick this morning, she dressed and went outside in search of her husband.

The time had finally come for the King and his company to leave, and for half of the Stark family to follow. It was a good thing Catelyn was staying, Ella thought, because she couldn't handle being the only woman in Winterfell. The boys were lovely and well-behaved, but she couldn't confide in them the way she could confide in Catelyn.

She found Robb outside, wrapped in an embrace with Jon. She smiled at the sight, despite the stab of bitter sadness in her gut. "Were you going to try and slip away without saying goodbye?"

The brothers had just pulled apart, and Jon turned to smile at her. She pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

"You stay warm, Jon Snow," she sighed. "And you stay safe."

They pulled away without another word, and Ella gave him a soft smile before Robb squeezed her hand and they began away. She felt a lump rising in her throat already, and had no clue how she was possibly going to make it through the rest of the morning. She had Arya to say goodbye to, and Sansa, and Ned.

She smothered Arya in a big hug, squeezing her until she protested.

"I'm going to miss you so much," she said, pulling away a little. "Don't let the court change you, understand? I think I'd die if I ever saw you in makeup and a dress."

Arya grimaced. "I think I'd, die, too."

Ella chuckled, and couldn't help but to pull her into a hug again. She stood, giving Nymeria a good scratch behind the ears, and turning to find Sansa. Two arms wrapped around her from behind, much too small to be Robb's, and she turned around to find herself face to face with the eldest Stark girl.

"You're going to be taller than me the next time I see you, aren't you?" Ella chuckled, holding Sansa tightly.

"_Everyone's_ going to be taller than you," Sansa replied, and Ella pulled away to slap her shoulder.

"Shut up." They shared a smile, and then Ella took her hands. "I know that the South is going to be much more fun and exciting than all of us left behind here, but you remember to write me sometimes, alright?"

Sansa nodded, and Ella kissed her cheek and hugged her. And then came the hardest part; saying goodbye to a father again. _Damn it all,_ Ella thought, _can't I view someone as a father without losing them? _She and Ned exchanged no words when she hugged him; he only kissed her forehead when he pulled away, the same as he did to Robb and Rickon, before he turned away to mount his horse.

Robb held her close to his side, and she kissed his cheek because she knew how sad he was to see his family leave. They watched as the King and his men filed out of Winterfell, as the courtyard slowly emptied of people bound for King's Landing far in the South.

If only, Ella thought, if only things would be going back to normal. Ned and the girls would leave and who knew when they would be back. And when they did come back – if they ever did – what would things be like then? Ella had a horrible feeling that was settling in the pit of her stomach – one that had appeared the moment she'd heard of the raven bearing bad news, but that she'd only had the nerve to acknowledge now – that told her that everything she'd come to view as normal was going to change.

**A/N: Look, everyone! An actual edited chapter!**

**Huge thanks to Leapylion3, who so graciously edited this chapter. Go check out her stories! I haven't had the time to read them, but I'm sure they're great.**

**Somebody sent me a message over tumblr asking how long Robb and Ella have been married, and I decided to answer it here so more people can see it. As of this chapter, Robb and Ella have (according to my timeline) been married for about six months. ****I know I haven't really said anything about it recently in the story. ****Sorry if that caused any confusion with anyone!**

**omg and okay writing Tyrion terrified me but I actually think I may have done well? I tried not to make that little bit too long because Tyrion's far wittier than I am and I probably couldn't think of anything he would realistically say. Let me know what you think of that, because Tyrion comes back in a few chapters, and even though the show can provide most of the dialogue for him, if I can write him well enough, we might get to see more of him than the show gives us.**

**Eva1983:**** Soon, soon...things are going to start slowing down now that the King's gone and Winterfell is mostly empty, so they're going to be able to focus on things they didn't have time for before. Thanks for reviewing!**

**ThatGirl54:**** There will come a day where I will be able to resist writing cheesy scenes for my pairings. Today is not that day. :P Thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoyed it!**

**Leapylion3: Thank you! Rickon is my favorite and he doesn't get nearly as much love as he deserves. Also, you're awesome for being my beta. I just thought I'd tell you again. And thank you for reviewing, too!**

**shippolove844: Thank you! We'll have to wait and find out, huh? ;)**

**Anzunico: Yes, things are finally picking up! Ella was kind of a lump of sadness the first few chapters, but now that she's comfortable in Winterfell she's showing more of her personality. Let me know if it gets too boring, yeah? It doesn't do to have bored readers. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**Bear 101: Like I said, given that this chapter and the last chapter were written fairly quickly (in my terms, at least) I'm hoping that chapter updates should be more frequent. At the very least, there (hopefully) won't be month-or-two-long gaps between chapters.**

**Big hugs to everyone who's read and reviewed and faved and followed! I really appreciate everyone's support. I know I say that, like, every chapter, but that doesn't make it any less true. I love each and every one of you for it! Let me know what you thought of this chapter, if you liked it or hated it and why. Seriously, even if you hate this story with every fiber of your being, let me know! Better yet, let me know why!**

**Thanks so much for tuning in this week.**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	18. Eighteen

XVIII

"I want to talk to you."

Robb's tone startled Ella, and she looked up at him with wide eyes.

"About what?"

He carefully took the canvas from her lap, setting it on the arm of her chair. He took to his knee in front of her, resting his hands on her cheeks. The worried expression on his face troubled her, and she furrowed her brow.

"Are you sick?" he asked in a very careful, measured voice. That wasn't what she expected him to day.

"Pardon?"

"Analysa's been telling me that you're unwell in the mornings. Are you alright? I know you've been acting strange lately."

Had she been? If she was, she hadn't meant to be. The last thing she wanted was to worry Robb, to face the truth that she'd been sick.

"No," was her automatic response. And until the time that she decided that she wanted to face the truth that something was the matter, that's what she would say. "I'm sure it's just the stress. I promise I feel fine. Don't worry about me."

She leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead and heard him murmur, "You know I do." Reluctantly, he nodded and sighed, leaning up to kiss her. After a moment, he pulled her off the chair to switch their places, and she relaxed against his chest as she settled in his lap. His grip was tight on her hips and around her waist. His hand was trailing up her side and she felt him smile against her lips when his hand reached a ticklish spot.

"You – tease!" she huffed between giggles, and squealed when he bit her bottom lip. It was only a few moments before Robb was shifting beneath her, groaning, and then he seized her and lifted her into his arms as she stood. He kept his lips on hers as they moved towards the bed, occasionally dipping down to kiss her neck or her jaw.

It hadn't taken long for their game of '_you touch me and I'll touch you until we chicken out'_ to end. It also hadn't taken long for them to realize that sex was an astounding stress reliever, and not long after that, they realized that it was fun. Before, it had all been need; annoying late-night urges or an early morning encouragement to get out of bed, or even something to do to relax before bed after a long, stressful day of running the household while everyone was gone. And now it was something fun to do whenever they had free time – which, admittedly, wasn't often.

He dropped her down on the bed, and she laughed as it bounced beneath her. He was smiling down at her, toeing off his boots and starting to undo the laces of his doublet. She stared up at him with a daring expression, and he was up to the challenge, leaning down to ravage her again. The dress she was wearing was loose and casual, and came off with ease. Robb reached behind her, tugging at the laces of her corset, but refusing to part his lips from hers. After a moment, though, he pulled away, cursing quietly under his breath. Ella laughed when he gained a look of concentration, eventually having to resort to turning her over on her stomach so he could untie the back of her corset.

She was still laughing when he turned her on her back again, slipping her corset off.

"That's not funny," Robb grumbled, but a smile was pulling at his lips. He bent to kiss her neck and collarbone.

"It's hilarious, my darling, you're just not laughing."

In retaliation, he grazed his lips over the ticklish spot on her neck, and she bucked involuntarily underneath him. She pulled away to give him a mock glare, even though she was lifting her legs to rest around his waist. Her hands were sliding down the front of his chest, finishing off the ties of his doublet and slipping it off his shoulders. He cocked an eyebrow at her, pulling his undershirt over his head.

"What's that look for?" he asked, although the husky tones of his voice made the words sound like a growl. It sent shivers up her spine.

"That's my ticklish spot," she murmured, working on the ties of his trousers. He chuckled, breath fluttering over the spot on her neck again, and her back arched. His hand was trailing down her side, ghosting over her hips before nestling between her legs. Her eyes closed and she let out a long, slow breath.

"I know," he said, tongue flicking over the spot and making her gasp. He suddenly got an idea to use his teeth. Biting could be fun, right? "And I _love_ your ticklish spot."

Ella found herself half-awake in bed, reaching out for something that smelled a lot like Robb and pulling it towards her. It was too soft and fluffy to be him, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized it was his pillow. She probably smelled like Robb, too, if she were to be honest. She usually did in the mornings, _usually_ because she spent the whole night tangled up with him, but _always_ because he was a bed hog, and all of the sheets and pillows smelled like him.

He was far too used to having a bed to himself, Ella thought.

She could feel the same annoying nausea settled in the pit of her stomach, just like every other morning. She knew that if she stood, she'd probably be sick. Even if she wasn't sick when she got up, she probably would be the moment she walked into the great hall to break her fast. This morning, she knew, would be one of those more difficult mornings, where she had to go out of her way to make sure no one saw that she was sick so they wouldn't worry.

Ella stretched and sat up very slowly, sitting still for a moment before carefully sliding off of the bed and getting to her feet. So far, so good. The nausea was still faint, and she figured she could probably get dressed without any trouble. She dressed as usual, except when it came to the tying of her corset. She frowned and pressed gently against her chest, trying to ward away the tenderness in her breasts. They were familiar pains, which she remembered from when she was younger and the Septa gave her a very awkward and dreadful speech about changing bodies.

Perhaps if it got worse, she'd seek out Maester Luwin (although she cringed at the thought that he might talk to her about changing bodies, too) but she also remembered a similar pain sometimes after she wore her corset too tight. The second problem with dressing that day was the dress she'd chosen. It always fit her body perfectly, until today.

She loosened the ties of her dress slightly, puffing out a breath._ I'm bloated, then. Perhaps my moonblood is coming_, she thought, and then froze. When was the last time she'd bled? What with the King's presence in Winterfell, and Bran falling from the tower, and caring for Rickon, she hadn't any time to think about that.

Closing her eyes, she thought back. She honestly couldn't remember bleeding since before Bran's birthday. That thought brought her eyes opening again, wide in shock, this time.

_Perhaps it's stress,_ she decided. She'd heard tell that difficult times could cause a woman to stop bleeding for a little while. Running her hand over her stomach, she took a deep breath and gave herself an assured look in the looking glass. She could be getting it again, now that things were calming down. That would explain the bloating, right? And she remembered hearing about breasts being sore during a woman's time – yes, that was it. It all made sense. Things were going back to normal, and that made her feel strange. Ironic, yes, but Ella figured that nature often worked in strange ways.

Analysa came soon to fetch her, and bring her down to breakfast. The day was spent much in the same manner as the past week – Robb off maintaining the household, Ella caring for Rickon, and Catelyn holed up in Bran's room. That particular day, Ella had decided to take Rickon out to play outside, figured that some fresh air would do him some good, since lately he'd been spending all his time indoors. When he went to lessons with Maester Luwin, Ella used the time to nap, because she'd been especially tired lately. Lunch was often the only time during the day that she got to see Robb. They ate together and spent a little time relaxing in their chambers, but depending on the day, Ella would join him and help him with his duties. After all, if she was going to be Lady of Winterfell one day, she would need practice.

And it was, she realized, almost as if she were Lady of Winterfell now. With Ned away, Robb was the Lord of Winterfell until he was back, and since Catelyn was indisposed, Ella was the one who had to take her place. Between taking care of Rickon and making sure the household was running smoothly, Ella figured that this arrangement wouldn't be at all different to what her life in the future would be like.

But it would take some getting used to. Ella was practically asleep at the desk, head resting in her palm and quill trailing lazily along the paper, smearing ink in the middle of the letter she'd been working on. The dim light of the room and the warmth of the fire and the shawl she was wrapped in added to the contented fullness of dinner, leaving her ready for bed. There was no way she could focus on work in such a state. The opening of the door woke her.

"Oh, m'lady, look at you!" Analysa hurried to her side, taking the quill from her hand and setting it on the desk before coaxing her out of the seat. "Come, surely you can work on that in the morning. You should get to bed."

"I'm fine," Ella told her, but muffled a yawn with the back of her hand a moment later. The petite maid was already leading her out of the solar and down the hall. "You tend to what you need to, Ana. I'll go get myself in bed."

"Are you sure, m'lady?"

"Oh, of course. I'm sure if I'm too tired to do anything by the time I get there, Robb will take care of it."

Analysa chuckled, then pecked Ella on the cheek. "Whatever you say. Rest well, m'lady."

Ella nodded and gave Analysa a little wave, rubbing her eyes as she continued down the corridors at a leisurely pace. She nearly ran straight into Robb as she turned the corner, and he took her by the forearms, pulling her out of the way. "What's going on?" she asked, stopping him from hurrying off. All of the tiredness she'd felt before left her upon seeing Robb's frantic expression.

"Fire, in one of the barns. Go check on my mother."

Ella nodded dutifully, letting him rush down the hall. She gathered her skirts in her hands and made her way to Bran's chambers, pushing open the cracked door.

"Catelyn?" She stepped inside of Bran's room and felt her heart drop into her stomach. Catelyn was kneeling at the end of Bran's bed, hands filthy with blood. "Cat!" Ella rushed forward to her, taking to her knees and gently coaxing Catelyn's hands into hers. "What happened?"

"There was a man-"

"Ella?" The women turned, and little Rickon was standing in the doorway. Ella pushed Cat's hands away, trying to hide the blood.

"Rickon, go find Maester Luwin!"

"Mother?"

"Go, now!" Startled, Rickon nodded hastily nodded his head and hurried down the hall. Ella turned back to Catelyn. "A man?"

"Him." Catelyn nodded over her shoulder, and Ella craned her neck to see. She only caught a glimpse of the bloodied neck, then looked away, stomach set rolling.

"Who is that man?" she asked. Catelyn shook her head.

"I don't know. I turned around and he was there, he was trying to kill Bran, he-" Ella could hear a shaking in Catelyn's voice and knew the woman was near hysterics.

"Alright, it's alright now, you're safe." Ella put an arm around Catelyn and helped her up, guiding her to the other side of the room and sitting her gently in a chair. She made haste to find a spare bit of cloth and dip it in washing water, pressing it carefully to the bleeding cuts on Cat's hands. There were footsteps in the hall, and there were Rickon and Maester Luwin in the doorway again. As the Maester came forward to tend to Catelyn, Ella moved to usher Rickon out of the room before he could see the bloodied corpse in the corner.

Rickon was clutching her skirts, confused at what he'd seen. He constantly tugged on her hand, whispering, "Ella, Ella, what had happened, Ella?" But she always shushed him softly and said that she'd explain it all when he was tucked in bed. A worried frown tugged at his lips and she could already see his eyes begin to fill up with tears, so she lifted him into her arms and went off towards his chambers.

"Don't worry about it, love," she murmured sweetly to him. "Everything's okay. Let's go to bed."

"Ella?" Robb turned the corner, looking confused.

"Go to your mother," she told him, not bothering to take the time to explain. Catelyn and Bran needed him. "I'll be there once Rickon is in bed."

He nodded, and both continued on their ways. Rickon was drooping in her arms, and it was no surprise, as it was past his bedtime. He was half asleep by the time they reached his chambers, so Ella sat him on the bed and changed him into his nightclothes before tucking him in.

"Can you sing to me, Ella?" he asked, tugging at her hand sleepily. "Mother used to sing to me."

She wanted to be back in Bran's room, making sure everyone was okay, but Rickon needed someone to be there for him. She stretched out on the bed beside him. "What do you want me to sing?"

"Anything." He closed his eyes and nestled down in his blankets. "Please, Ella?"

"Okay," she said, and pushed Rickon's hair away from his face as she sang a soft lullaby, one her mother sang her when she was a girl. She didn't remember all the words, but whenever she forgot, she would just hum or make something up. When she was sure he was asleep, she bent to kiss his forehead, then quietly slipped out of the room. Robb was waiting for her there, quickly taking her hand and leading her down the hall.

"What's happened?" she inquired immediately. "What-"

"Everything's alright. Mother has cuts on her hand and Maester Luwin has taken her back to her chambers. They've cleaned up the mess in Bran's room, and guards are outside of the door."

"Robb-"

"Please." He stopped and pulled her close to him, burying his nose in her hair. "Please, Ella. Let's go to bed now."

She nodded slowly, wrapping her arms around him briefly before pulling away. "Okay. Okay," she whispered, taking his hand in hers and tugging him down the hallway again. "Come. We'll go to bed, then."

And they did. Ella leaned against the door once it was closed and simply watched Robb. It made her so sad to see the way he moved, slow and measured and with a weariness that she'd only seen in old men. He didn't even have the energy to pick up his clothes from the floor, so, moving away from the door, she did it for him. She got him all settled under the covers, trying to ignore the dark circles that had been forming under his eyes lately. It was times like these that reminded her just how heavily the burden of Winterfell weighed on his shoulders.

She leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"What's happening, Ella?" he sighed, eyes closed. He turned on his side and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her lap. She absently ran her fingers through his hair, and noticed that it was knotted. That meant that he was messing with it again. She'd noticed that he often did that when in distress.

"I don't know, my darling. I wish I did."

He kept his eyes closed and face buried in her lap, but one of his hands was making its way up her back to pull gently at the ties on the back of her dress.

"Come to bed with me, Ella." She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and feeling like any energy she'd managed to muster earlier that evening was draining out of her. "Come to bed. I've had enough with being awake."

"Things need dealing with," she murmured, more to herself rather than as a protest.

"And come morning, they will be dealt with." He squeezed her waist again, and his words were becoming slurred with sleep. "And morning can wait."

**A/N: I'm back again! I had to put this on hold for a while, and I'm sorry. But, I'm out of school now, and I'm going to try my hardest to make updates come on a regular schedule! I know that every time I say that I end up not posting another chapter for a month, but I mean it this time. I don't actually have to do anything during the day except for write stuff, so I can make good on my promises.**

**Thanks for hanging in there, everyone. I really appreciate it!**

**Again, thanks to my new beta _Leapylion3_, who cleans up these chapters and makes them more enjoyable for you to read. Go drop her a nice message!**

**Huge thanks to Shippolove844, HermioneandMarcus, ThatGirl54, WhatsGoingOn, Anzunico, Guest, and safranbrod for reviewing! I don't have time to reply to reviews today, since I'm adding this on a hurry, but I wanted to let you all know how much I appreciated you support! Also, a shout-out to everyone who added this to their faves or alerts! If it weren't for all of you, I'd have stopped writing a long time ago!**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you thought of it with that handy dandy little review module down below! I hope everyone enjoys tomorrow's episode...**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	19. Nineteen

XIX

"What I am about to tell you must remain between us."

The only sound in the Godswood was the rustle of the leaves in the wind. Ella stood beside Theon, a cloak draped over her shoulders and her skirt still gathered in her hand. The light of the afternoon cast a pleasant blue glow over the earth and the trees, but Catelyn's mouth was set in a grim line on her face, and it kept any pleasure from being taken in from the scene.

"I don't think Bran fell from that tower. I think he was thrown."

The silence that followed was terse and short lived.

"The boy was always sure footed before," Maester Luwin remarked, and Ella suddenly remembered what Arya had told her on her first day in Winterfell. _He's never once fallen,_ she'd said. _Even when it rains. He climbs every day._

"Someone tried to kill him, _twice_," Catelyn continued. "Why? Why murder an innocent child? Unless he saw something he wasn't meant to see."

"Saw what, milady?" Theon asked, looking very suspicious.

"I don't know. But I would stake my life the Lannisters are involved. We already have reason to suspect their loyalty to the crown."

"Did you notice the dagger the killer used?" Rodrik said, the aforementioned blade in his hands. "It's too fine a weapon for such a man. The blade is Valyrian steel, the handle dragonbone. Someone gave it to him."

"They come into our home," Robb began, sounding like he was clenching his teeth, "and try to murder my brother. If it's a war they want-"

"If it comes to that, you know I'll stand behind you," Theon cut in quickly, stepping forward. Wait– _war_? Ella blinked, trying to wrap her head around that. How did this escalate so quickly?

"What?" Luwin's ever-calm voice cut into their conversation. He stared at them and spoke with rationality. "Is there going to be a battle in the Godswood? Hmm? Too easily words of war become acts of war. We don't know the truth yet." He turned to Catelyn. "Lord Stark must be told of this."

Catelyn shook her head. "I don't trust a raven to carry these words."

"I'll ride to King's Landing," Robb volunteered.

Catelyn objected immediately. "No. There must _always_ be a Stark in Winterfell. I will go myself."

"Catelyn-" Ella started, brow furrowing as she took a step forward.

"Mother, you can't-"

"I must." The finality of her voice made them quiet.

"I'll send you with a squad of guardsmen to escort you," Rodrik said.

"Too large a party attracts unwanted attention. I don't want the Lannisters to know I'm coming."

"Let me accompany you, at least. The Kingsroad is a dangerous place for a woman alone."

Catelyn looked to Maester Luwin, silently asking for his counsel. He met her eyes and gave her a subtle nod. Looking back to Rodrik, she nodded in affirmation. That didn't seem to sit well with Robb at all.

"Well what about Bran?" Ella knew that he was trying to appeal to her, to remind her of the son she'd been obsessing over for the past weeks.

"I have prayed to the Seven for more than a month," she said, voice quiet. "His life is in their hands now. I can trust you to keep Winterfell on its feet while I'm gone?" Robb let out a breath and nodded, keeping his eyes low. "We should leave soon. This is not news that can wait."

They all began to trail out of the Godswood not long after, but Catelyn caught Robb by the arm to keep him behind. Robb nodded to Ella for her to go on without him, and she waited by the gate, just out of sight. They kept their voices low, but she could still hear what they were saying.

"You understand why I'm doing this?" Catelyn asked, undoubtedly fixing Robb with an imploring look. There was a silence, and Ella assumed that he nodded.

"I do."

"You're more than capable of taking care of Winterfell while I'm gone," she said, and there was the soft sound of lips leaving skin. "I won't be gone for long. I promise."

* * *

><p>Ella felt so stupid. She stood half-naked in front of the looking glass, staring herself in the eye as she ran a shaking hand over her stomach. It wasn't really noticeable from the front, but then she turned to the side, and there it was. Taking a deep breath, she went over to the door and locked it, assuring her absolute privacy. And then she moved back to the looking glass.<p>

It had been a week and a half since she'd noticed the bloating and soreness, and still her moonblood had not come. And that left her with one conclusion.

What was that, which she felt, like her heart had wings and was fluttering in her chest? That was happiness, she knew in the back of her mind, but why was she feeling it? There was a wide grin growing on her face, cheeks suddenly feeling very, very damp. She took a deep, shaking breath, running her hand again over her stomach again.

There was a little part of her that was nervous and scared, but there would be time for that later. She turned to her side, gazing intently at the little, nearly unnoticeable bump in her middle and, _I'm so stupid_, she thought, _here is my body and it's changing right beneath my fingers, I'm so stupid that I didn't see._

She nearly jumped out of her skin when the door rattled. There was a confused noise on the other side of the door, and Ella realized that it was Robb, who hadn't expected the door to be locked. He knocked. "Ella?"

She scurried to wrap her dressing gown around herself and wipe her cheeks before going to unlock the door, smiling innocently as she held it open for him.

"Why aren't you dressed yet?" he chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Oh, you know." She shrugged, trying to think up an excuse. "I was just…waiting for you."

He smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, were you?"

Well, she didn't see any reason not to go along with it. "I was," she said, smiling coyly and casually trailing over to the bed. An hour later found them lying together, Robb snuggled into her side. Ella was completely really to fall asleep again and wake up only to eat lunch, but then she was suddenly _very_ awake when Robb made a noise of confusion, lifting his head and looking at his hand, resting on her belly. She turned over on her side very suddenly, intent to distract him.

"What does today have in store for us?" she asked, tangling her legs with his.

"Work," he sighed. "Mother is preparing to leave tomorrow."

Ella knew what he was thinking. "You'll do fine. You were always meant to be Lord of Winterfell, Robb. And Maester Luwin will be there to help you, and Theon." She leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "And me. We'll be alright."

Robb didn't say anything to that, only kissed her twice before standing. Ella turned and watched him move around the room, pulling the blanket up to cover herself. He threw her a smile when he noticed she was watching, which she returned. He leaned over her once he was dressed.

"Are you going to stay in bed all day?"

"I was hoping to," she chuckled. He smiled.

"Get dressed and come outside before lunch. I've got a little free time this morning."

She ran her hand over the stubble on his cheek and nodded, smiling. When he was gone, she grudgingly stood and began to dress. Every so often, she glanced over at the looking glass. When she had all her layers on, she stood before it again, turning to her side. It wasn't noticeable with her clothes on, not really. But still, she thought, she'd have to find a way to slip away unnoticed sometime later and see Maester Luwin.

* * *

><p>Rickon was crying. He had his hands fisted in his mother's skirts, face buried against her side. She had spent all morning consoling him, but he found no comfort in his mother's words. They meant nothing to him. All he knew was that everyone was leaving him, and he couldn't for the life of him understand why.<p>

Robb had been able to coax Rickon away only after he'd taken his mother in his arms for a tight hug. He told her over and over to be safe, to make sure she stayed hidden and to make sure Rodrik took good care of her. She kissed his cheek, running a hand over his curls and telling him that _of course_ she'd be safe, and once Rickon wasn't holding onto her skirts, she knelt in front of him and buried him in a hug.

No one could hear the things that she murmured to him, but when she pulled away, he'd finally stopped crying, although there were tears still dripping down his cheeks. Catelyn wiped them away with her sleeve. She kissed his forehead and each of his cheeks before standing. Robb gently took Rickon's shoulders, guiding him back a few steps before he could latch onto Catelyn's skirts again.

Ella led Catelyn a few steps away before pulling her into a tight hug. She felt her heart thumping in her chest, and before she could lose her nerve, she decided to tell her. Before Cat could pull away, Ella held her close and told her what the maester said. Catelyn's grip came loose and Ella let her pull away.

"Really?" she breathed, and when Ella nodded, she covered her smile with her hands. "Oh! Oh, Ella!" She pulled her into a tight hug, laughing and grinning. Suddenly, she pulled away again, lowering her voice. "Does Robb know?"

Ella shook her head. "I was going to tell him tonight. I wanted you to know before you left." She took Catelyn's hands in hers. "You'll be back soon?"

"As soon as I can," Catelyn said, squeezing her hands and kissing her cheek. "Goodbye, my dear."

Ella wrapped her in another hug. "Goodbye, Mother."

They both froze. Ella hadn't meant for it to come out that way. She'd started viewing Catelyn as a mother more and more the longer she'd been there, but she'd never said it out loud and she felt humiliated. Her face burned. Catelyn, however, only held her tighter, and kissed her cheek again when she pulled away.

No more words were exchanged, and Rodrik helped Catelyn onto her horse before mounting his own. Rickon cried again when they left, turning to Robb with the most pitiful look Ella's had ever seen and holding up his arms to him. Robb lifted Rickon and let the boy cry against his shoulder. He murmured quietly, trying to console his brother, and motioned for Ella to join him as they went inside.

Robb still had things to do. He had appointments to make and accounts to go over. He kissed her cheek and handed Rickon to her, leaving them standing in the hallway. Ella took Rickon back to his chambers, sat with him cradled on her lap as he cried. She talked to him and tried to explain what was happening, but he still didn't understand. She wondered if he was crying too hard to pay attention.

Eventually, she resorted to simply singing to him. Crying would tire him out and he'd be down for a nap before long. If she was lucky, he'd still be tired enough to be in bed at his bedtime later that evening. When he was finally asleep, she carried him over to his bed and tucked him in.

"You'll be alright," she whispered, brushing his hair away from his forehead. "You'll see. Mother will be back soon. And it will be alright."

* * *

><p>She was nervous. How was she meant to tell him? She had half a mind to simply let him find out on his own time, let him be startled one day when he finally noticed the rounded curve of her belly. That wouldn't be long, she remembered, because already, her body was beginning to change. And better sooner than later.<p>

So as she sat with Robb by the fire one evening after dinner, she took a deep breath and let it roll off her tongue before she could convince herself not to say it.

"I'm with child."

But it just so happened that Robb had been rattling off about something or the other and she'd cut right into his sentence. He looked shocked, as shocked as she'd ever seen him, blue eyes wide and surprised. "What?"

He expected her to say it again. She blamed herself. "I'm pregnant, Robb."

"Oh," he breathed. The entire room was silent and still.

It took a moment, but then he finally began to smile, and she let out a breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. He came forward from his seat and the next thing she knew, he was kissing her hard. The breath was knocked out of her; she reached up to cup his cheek and his hands were firm on the sides of her neck. It wasn't long before he pulled away, and when he did, they found themselves grinning at one another.

"You're sure?" he asked, and it made her heart soar to see him so elated.

"Absolutely. The maester says he's certain."

And then Robb was kissing her again, arms wrapping around her and he pulled her from her chair, standing and twirling her and she laughed into the kiss.

"So I take it you're happy?" she asked. Robb closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers.

"I love you," he said, all breathless against her lips. His eyes were closed and his lips were swollen from kissing but still turned up at the corners. "I _love_ you."

Ella couldn't exactly describe the rhythm her heart had taken when he said those words. It was like it froze and went wild all at once. She kissed him again, let him pull her tight against his chest, let him take her to their bed and kiss her while his hands busied themselves with the stays of her dress.

But she didn't say the words back.

Robb was falling asleep, arms wrapped around her waist, but Ella remained awake. How was she supposed to sleep after that? _I love you_. Shit, she wasn't expecting that. She didn't know what to say. _Did_ she love him? She…she was fond of him. She cared for him very much, and she was very grateful that he was so good to her.

But none of those things answered her most important question. Did she love him? She didn't want to think about this anymore, she just wanted to be able to be happy with the fact that he wasn't angry, wasn't upset. She was pregnant and he was glad, and that was all that was supposed to matter right now._ But did she love him?_

And did he mean it, was her next question. She'd just told him she was pregnant, and that was enough to rattle anyone's brain. Did he really mean what he'd said, or did he say it because he was happy? People said a lot of things they didn't mean when they were happy. Maybe he'd regret it in the morning.

What would be worse: if he didn't mean it, or if he did? Which one would have the worst outcome? Ella pulled herself closer to Robb, squeezing her eyes shut. She really didn't want to think about this. She just wanted to sleep. In the morning, she could worry about it. Her thoughts would be clearer then. She should be happy, thinking about her baby. (_Her baby_ – she wasn't used to that yet.) She should be focusing on that, and nothing else. But she wasn't.

A loud knock on the door jolted her out of her thoughts. Robb sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He kissed Ella's forehead and mumbled to her to stay in bed, that he'd get it. He lazily tied the laces of his trousers before opening the door. A maid was there, looking up at Robb with wide eyes.

"Lord Stark," she said, sounding breathless, like she'd hurried there as fast as she could. "I-I'm sorry, I know it's late. Lord Bran is awake."

**A/N: Hello! So, I think I'm going to try updates every Saturday. How's that sound? Now that I'm officially out of school, I can spend all day every day working on this. I'm already a few chapters ahead, so I think this is going to work out well.**

**marius-henly: I'm going to folllow canon to an extent. It's going to be AU in that the general outline of the plot will be the same, but there will be some major events that will be changed, things will happen that don't happen in the books, etc. It's also going to be a bit of a mix of book and tv, though probably closer to tv since that's my primary source material. It won't start being very clealy AU until...oh, middle of season/book 2, I'd say.**

**ThatGirl54: I've never referred to the baby as Baby Stark and that just made me flail with cutes omg :3**

**Tempest Rulz: Well, here's Ella realizing what's going on! You're right, she _is_ still just a teenager right now, she's only 16, and given the fact that she was raised to be a lady in a fairly sheltered environment, she's still very innocent and naive about some things. Robb, I think, is much in the same way, though to a lesser extent, and given the fact that he's busy and, as you said, a guy, he can't really be expected to know better. I'm glad that chapter could be of comfort to you!**

**So...episode 9. What did you guys think? I cried. A lot. Like, a pathetic amount of ugly tears. It wasn't even limited to the Red Wedding scene. It was ALL OVER. I had to pause multiple times in the beginning and middle of the episode just to calm down. An then just yesterday I got on tumblr for a couple minutes, saw a picture (those who have seen it will know what I'm talking about) and got really emotional again. Being on my period might have something to do with it.**

**Huge thanks to_ shippolove844, Guest, ThatGirl54, marius-henly, Allimba, WhatsGoingOn, Tempest Rulz_, and _Soccer-Bitch_ for reviewing! I appreciate it so much! Also, huge shout out to everyone who's faved, followed, and alerted. All of you are the best and you deserve good things in life.**

**Alright, and now it's time for the obligatory post-making-it-official question: What do you think - boy or girl? All of your opinions may or may not have an impact on what it turns out to be. Hint hint, nudge nudge. (Come on, everyone, just let me have this moment.)**

**Once again, thanks so much for reading! I hope everyone enjoyed today's chapter. **

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	20. Twenty

XX

Ella had finally managed to calm her thoughts by the time Robb returned to bed. He unlaced his trousers and let them sag on his hips as he walked, slipping them off just before he crawled beneath the furs next to her. She curled into him, feeling butterflies in her chest when he kissed her shoulder and let his hand rest on her stomach.

"How is he?" she asked softly, about to doze off.

"A little disoriented," he responded, eyes closed. "He'll be fine. Old Nan is with him now."

But the morning brought bad news. The solar was silent as Robb bent over the desk, eyes closed. Ella stood to the side, arms crossed over her chest and head drooping. Maester Luwin said nothing more, instead leaving the two in peace and going off, no doubt, to tell Bran.

"He won't believe him," Robb said. "He won't believe Maester Luwin about his le-" he choked up, then took a deep breath and cleared his throat before continuing in a much steadier voice. "He won't believe…_that_ until he hears it from me."

"You don't know that for sure," Ella said, voice still quiet and sad.

"No, I do. I know Bran. He won't."

The room was still for a moment, before she moved forward to slide her hands onto his shoulders, pulling him away from the desk just enough so she could wrap her arms around his middle.

"There's only one thing we can do, then." Her voice was muffled by the leather of his jerkin. "We can thank the gods that he still has his life, and make the best of this."

"How could we possibly make the best of this?" Robb asked, voice rising as he turned to face her. She was unperturbed, placing her hands on his shoulders again to calm him.

"We stay with him, and let him know that this isn't the end of the world for him."

Robb backed up to sit in his chair, pulling Ella into his lap. His muscles were completely limp; it was too early in the morning for him to have to deal with this. It already took all of the fire out of him. She played with the hair at the nape of his neck, pondering down at him. Her hand trailed down the back of his neck and under his doublet, finding the ticklish spot on his back. He jolted in his seat, chuckling against his will.

"Hey," he warned, reaching for her hands. She caught his hands before he could snatch hers, then turned them in her hands and kisses his palms. Before he could react, she slid out of his lap and stood, pulling him out of his seat.

"Go talk to Bran." She stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "I still have work to finish."

"Don't overwork yourself," he said just before leaving, and Ella rolled her eyes at him, settling down in Robb's seat at the desk to start at her work.

* * *

><p>Winterfell was quiet in the weeks that passed. It was a good thing that Ella had told Robb about the baby when she did, because two days later, the morning sickness hit her full force. It hardly qualified to even be called <em>morning<em> sickness anymore, because the slightest mention of food had her retching. Robb was a darling, sat by her side every time she was sick and making sure her hair was pulled away from her face, a damp cloth on hand to help her wipe her mouth between bouts.

She didn't really appreciate his support _while_ she was sick, though. Afterwards, when her stomach had settled and she was alright again, she showered him with affection, thanking him for being there and praising him for being so good to her, even getting emotional to the point of tears once. While she was sick, however, she constantly sent him glares, telling him not to touch her and reminding him that it was _his_ fault that she was so sick in the first place.

To everyone's relief, however, the sickness was gone almost as quickly as it came. She was no longer quite as sensitive to food, but still was easily tired. Maester Luwin told her very firmly that she shouldn't overexert herself, but it wasn't as if Ella ever had a chance to. Robb was overprotective nearly to a fault, and Ella had to remind him daily that she wasn't going to break. It took him a while for him to get that through his head, but he was much more subtle with his protectiveness once he'd finally become used to the fact that she was pregnant.

It was hard for Ella to believe, too. Every morning she'd wake up and be surprised that there was a little bump beneath her nightgown, still not entirely convinced that it wasn't just a dream. Then once, after a particularly stressful day, she dreamt that she'd never been pregnant at all. She woke up in a cold sweat with tears on her cheeks, and she had to lift up her nightgown and wake up Robb to be really, really sure that her baby was there. Anything else was unthinkable.

She'd told him what she dreamed about, and that night and every night since, he fell asleep with his hand on her belly.

Duties in Winterfell remained as they were. Robb and Ella still saw each other very few times a day, but they were beginning to fall into a comfortable routine. Robb insisted that he shoulder some of her duties, and whatever feeble protests she could muster up fell on deaf ears. She was grateful for the extra time, however. Typically, she used it to get a nap in.

Today, however, she found herself accompanying Robb to the great hall, after they'd received word that Tyrion Lannister had arrived. She wanted to groan at the thought, and Robb had told her that she could go and have her daily nap, but she insisted she'd stay. In truth, she wanted to know just why the Lannister had seen fit to return to Winterfell. It was only the middle of the day – by all means, he could have continued on to Castle Cerwyn and made it by nightfall. But he chose to stop at Winterfell instead.

"I must say I received a slightly warmer welcome on my last visit."

"Any man of the Night's Watch is welcome at Winterfell," Robb said simply, like he didn't see a single problem with the welcome that the Lannister had been given. Ella figured that he probably didn't.

"Any man of the Night's Watch, but not me, eh, boy?"

"I'm not your boy, Lannister." His voice became more serious. "I'm Lord of Winterfell while my father's away."

"And you might learn a Lord's courtesy."

Any reply that Robb might have had on hand was cut off when the doors opened again. Hodor stumbled into the room, holding Bran in his arms. Tyrion turned to face him, and though Ella couldn't see his face, she figured by his posture going rigid that Tyrion was surprised to see him.

"So it's true," he said, quieter than before. He turned to face them when Hodor came to a stop. "Hello, Bran. Do you remember anything about what happened?"

Maester Luwin spoke up from Robb's side. "He has no memory of that day."

"Curious…"

"Why are you here?" Robb spoke up. Ella figured that he, like everyone else, was beginning to tire of Tyrion's presence in Winterfell. They'd just done away with the Lannisters, and now one had come back. Perhaps they should lock their doors next time.

"Would your charming companion be so kind as to kneel? My neck is beginning to hurt."

Bran didn't seem up for dealing with Tyrion Lannister whatsoever. "Kneel, Hodor."

"Do you like to ride, Bran?"

"Yes," was the boy's terse response. "Well, I mean, I _did_ like to."

"The boy has lost all use of his legs," Luwin cut in again.

Tyrion shook his head just a bit. "What of it? With the right horse and saddle, even a cripple can ride."

"I'm not a cripple," Bran interjected immediately, but, as always, Tyrion was ready.

"Then I'm not a dwarf! My father will rejoice to hear it!" He continued, "I have a gift for you." He pulled a roll of parchment from his cloak and handed it to Bran, who unrolled it immediately. "Give that to your saddler. He'll provide the rest." He turned to the head table as Bran examined the scroll. "You must shape the horse to the rider. Start with a yearling, and teach it to respond to the reins and to the boy's voice."

"Will I really be able to ride?" Bran asked softly.

"You will," Tyrion assured. "On horseback, you'll be as tall as any of them."

"Is this some kind of trick?" Robb asked, still wary of any Lannister that set foot in his hall. "Why do you want to help him?"

"I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards, and broken things."

"You've done my brother a kindness. The hospitality of Winterfell is yours."

"Spare me your false courtesies, Lord Stark. There's a brothel outside your walls. There I'll find a bed and both of us can sleep easier." With that, Tyrion turned and left the hall.

* * *

><p>Tyrion Lannister left quietly the next morning, before anyone else woke up. Only days later, news came to Winterfell that he'd encountered Catelyn at an inn, and she'd promptly arrested him and was on her way North to Winterfell. Robb had only just started to worry when they received another raven not long after that she was in the Vale with her sister. She wrote and told them over and over not to worry, but that hardly meant anything to Robb.<p>

Ella often caught him pacing, running his hands through his hair, whenever he thought she wasn't watching. But more often than not she was, because his behavior worried him. He was young, still, and all of this put on his shoulders in such a short amount of time, and none of them were quite ready for what was happening.

There was one night, though, when things were calm and Winterfell was quiet and they all had time to rest and think. Ella had been sat in front of the fire all afternoon and into the evening, her hands folded in her lap and a very pensive look on her face. For the first little while, Robb had thought to leave her alone, to let her be with her thoughts, but as the night drew on, he grew more concerned.

Once during the evening, Grey Wind had rested his head in her lap and she scarcely acknowledged him, patting him once or twice on the head before lacing her fingers together again. That, of all things, made Robb start. She spoiled Grey Wind like nothing else, and never failed to shower him with affection whenever he came near her. That was when Robb decided to intervene. He kneeled in front of her, resting his hands on the cushion on either side of her legs, staring up and her and waiting until she was ready to speak.

"It was the childbed that took her, my mother," she said quietly. She kept her eyes down. "She and my father had always spoken of having another child, but none of them ever lived past infancy. Some of them she lost in the early months. And finally one took her. I was ten when it happened."

He knew her well enough to know what she was thinking. He shifted closer to her, gently taking her chin so she would look at him. Once he had her eyes locked on hers and was sure she wouldn't look away, he said very firmly, "You are _not_ your mother." She swallowed thickly, her bottom lip trembling. "You'll be alright. Maester Luwin said you're already past the dangerous time, didn't he?"

She nodded slowly, taking a shaking breath. He gave her a small, reassuring smile, and leaned up to kiss her. She still didn't look quite settled, so he tried something else.

"How's the little one?" he asked, gently taking her hips and shifting her down the seat so she was closer to him. She smiled, running a hand over his curls.

"Hanging in there."

A moment of silence passed between them, much less somber and tense this time. Robb stood and pulled her up from the seat, dragging her to the bed. She sat down and fell back when he prodded her gently in the shoulder. He began to remove her boots for her, when her stomach growled loudly. She placed her hand over her belly, and Robb laughed.

"How can you _possibly_ be hungry?" he grinned, cocking an eyebrow at her. "You ate everything off of your plate and starting picking off of mine."

"What's yours is mine," she reminded with a little smile. "And besides, I'm eating for two now. It can't be helped." She was quiet for a minute, absently rubbing small circles on the bump of her belly. "Robb, I _really_ want steak."

"A whole steak?" he chuckled.

"Yeah. That's all I can think about. A really thick, juicy piece of steak." A beat. "Steak and cheese."

"Cheese?" He straightened, tossing away her stocking and sitting down on the bed next to her legs. She nudged him, then gave him a very innocent, pretty smile when he turned to her. "Gods be good," he sighed, shaking his head and smiling. He stood. "Alright, fine. Steak and cheese. I'll be back in a few minutes. Do you want anything to drink?"

"No. Just water, or something. All I really want right now is a massive steak wrapped in cheese."

Robb left promptly, worried that if he dillydallied any longer he'd have a very grumpy wife on his hands. He remembered his father telling him once, "A happy wife is a happy life." And Robb remembered Ella's stern glares when she was sick. She'd never been properly cross with him, and he quite wanted things to stay that way.

Once Robb was gone, Ella shifted so her head was on the pillow and called Grey Wind over to lie down with her. She felt guilty that she'd ignored him earlier and turned over to wrap her arms around the wolf's thick neck, burying her face in his fur. She found him a wonderful companion, because he showed a very person-like intuition and always knew when she needed comforting. She found solace in the fact that he always seemed to be listening whenever she needed to rant and not have someone talk back to her.

Her stomach growled again and she thought for a moment, before jumping out of bed and hurrying to the door.

"Lemoncakes!" she yelled, wrenching the door open and desperately hoping that Robb was still only down the hall. "Robb! _Lemoncakes!_"

* * *

><p>Grey Wind hurried into the room ahead of Ella, jumping on the bed and lying down next to his brother. Ella smiled when she caught sight of Bran, just dressed and still bleary eyed from sleep. She sat down next to his bed, making herself comfortable. Bran rubbed his eyes and looked up at her, confused.<p>

"Where's Old Nan?"

"Taking the day off. I thought I'd come and sit with you today, and keep you company. I haven't seen you much since you woke up."

"I've only been lying here." The bitterness in his voice was not hard to miss. "I left once when Tyrion Lannister was here and that was it."

"But the saddler's almost done with your saddle, isn't he?" She placed a hand over Bran's. "I'll talk to Robb about letting you have some time outside. I don't see why he'd say no."

"Why do I even have to be holed up in here, anyways?" he huffed, looking away from her. She shifted in her seat, unsure if he knew about the assassin or not. And if he didn't, did Robb want to keep it a secret from him?

"Robb worries," she said, and that was the simplest, most ambiguous way she could think to put it. "You know that." Bran didn't say anything, and silence fell between them. She tried to think of something to say, to break the silence between them and bring Bran out of his bad mood. She couldn't blame him – she knew that being holed up in a room was like. Only Bran was different, because he wasn't going to get better. "Have you decided what to call your wolf yet?"

That made Bran smile, and Ella's heart felt light. "I call him Summer."

They talked until lunch, when Ella left to fetch lunch for both of them. In the halls, Theon pulled her aside. "Robb is busy, I'll give this to him in a moment," he said, holding a rolled up piece of parchment in his hand. "I thought I should let you know."

Furrowing her eyebrows, she took the parchment and unrolled it, reading intently the whole way through. Theon clasped his hands and waited, taking the parchment when she was done. She ran a hand over her eyes.

"Seven hells. Bring Robb some wine, while you're at it." She turned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "A _lot_ of wine."

**A/N: Hello, everyone! I hate this chapter but I think it's probably because it was difficult to write and by the time I'd finished writing it I didn't want to look at it anymore. Part of the reason is also probably because there's so little substance in this chapter, it's pretty much just a filler, an I really dislike filler chapters. I hope you guys like it more than I do.**

**shippolove844: Thank you! Ha, well, the primary circumstances for the Red Wedding _are_ different...but whether or not Roose Bolton and Walder Frey find another reason to kill Robb is for me to know and you to find out. ;)**

**Bear101: I know I didn't show his reaction, but I feel like Theon would probably get them_ a lot_ of ale. You know, for celebration.**

**WhatsGoingOn: That sounds really cute! But whether that happens is, again, for me to know and you to find out. ;)**

**Tempest Rulz: I have a lot of feelings about Rickon Stark. There's not much of him in this chapter, but he'll make more appearances. I can understand that, both episodes 9 and 10 were really hard to watch. They both involved a lot of crying and hiding behind my hands. **

**Huuuuge thanks to _rikka21, Lunar678, Little Emily, Bear101, shippolove844, WhatsGoingOn, Tempest Rulz, Natsirt 2610_, _Irishlass18, _and_ Red red red ribbon_ for reviewing! I appreciate it so much! Also, this story now has officially passed 200 favorites! So hugs and kisses to everyone who's faved and everyone who's added this to the alerts. I love you all and appreciate everyone's support!**

**Can we talk about that finale? Wow. Not the greatest finale (because let's be real, what can beat the overload of epicness that was Fire and Blood?) but it was stunning nonetheless. It had its moments. What did you all think?**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Like I said, for whatever reason it was hard to write and I'm so done with looking at it, so I'm not the biggest fan of this chapter.**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	21. Twenty One

XXI

"You should take a break, my lady."

Ella sighed. That was the fifth time he'd said that to her in fifteen minutes. "Maester Luwin, I promise you that I don't feel stressed whatsoever. I've only done an hour's work this morning, and it's hardly enough to strain me."

"Which is why you've been running your hands through your hair and clenching your fists." _Damn that man and his acute observations_. She rose an eyebrow at him, and he stared unapologetically back at her. It only took a moment for Ella to give up, dropping the quill down on the desk and leaning back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. "Robb can handle all of this nonsense from now on." She waved her hand at the papers strewn across the desk. "I think I'd much prefer to manage the stocks and accounts." She stood, beckoning for Luwin to come with her. "Come. All I can think about is getting something to eat."

Running Winterfell was a challenge, but Ella was raised to be a lady. These were things she'd been taught from birth how to do, though she would admit she'd much prefer to manage the stocks and accounts an let Robb handle everything else. She was very good with sums, had always excelled at them as a child, and found managing the stocks and accounts to be easy tasks. These, along with caring for Bran and Rickon, were her duties in the few weeks she'd been acting Lady of Winterfell, with the addition of listening to appeals of the people of the North once every week or so.

Today, however, Ella's duties included some of Robb's, too. Bran's saddle had finally been finished and Robb and Theon had taken him out into the Wolfswood so he could ride. Ella was happy for him, and greatly wished to see him ride, but Maester Luwin said that she couldn't ride until the baby was born, and she didn't much fancy walking there. Robb had told her that she didn't need to do his duties, that he could attend to them when he returned, but she reminded him not to coddle her and told him she'd be fine.

She and Maester Luwin had just reached the floor level when a small ruckus began in the entrance hall. "What in the world happened?" Ella gasped, coming forward to make sure Bran was okay when she saw him in the arms of his brother.

"I'm fine," he said, shaking his head at her, but Robb wasn't having that.

"Where's Maester Luwin?"

"I'm here," the old man said, coming forward and quickly examining the wound on Bran's leg. "This will need stitches. Come, bring him to my chambers."

Robb went off with Bran, and Ella turned to Theon, who held a wild looking woman firm in his grasp. "This woman and her friends threatened Bran," he said, throwing her down at Ella's feet. The woman cowered. "Robb decided to spare her."

"Only her?" Theon nodded. Ella took a breath. "Did he say what he wanted with her?"

"We were going to question her, to see why they attacked Bran."

Ella bit her lip, thinking. "Put her in a cell until later. Make sure someone keeps an eye on her." With that, she turned and began towards Maester Luwin's chambers. When she arrived, she saw Luwin finishing the stitches on Bran's leg and Robb fretting in the corner. "Is he alright?"

"It's only a cut, nothing to be worried about. With the stitches and proper care, it will heal soon," Luwin assured. She nodded, then caught Robb's eye, motioning for the both of them to go outside. She closed Luwin's door behind them.

"What happened?"

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his eyes and then taking her by the arms, pulling her to his chest. "I'll tell you later, once it's all done and dealt with." He rested his hands at the small of her back. "How was your morning?"

"Busy."

"Stressful?"

She chuckled, leaning up on her tip-toes to give him a peck. "Yes. But, luckily for me, I have the ever alert Maester Luwin to nag me the moment I begin to feel the tiniest hint of stress."

"Good."

The door opened behind them and Maester Luwin ushered them inside. "He will be find to ride again once the wound heals and the stitches removed. I will have the saddler fix the straps for you."

Robb scooped Bran into his arms, thanked Luwin as he left, and went with Ella down the hall to Bran's chambers. They made very light, idle conversation as they walked, Ella in particular trying to test the waters and see just how Bran was reacting to what had happened. He said he was fine, and Ella knew well that Bran was a trooper, but she had to make sure.

She and Robb sat beside Bran once the boy was all settled in his bed again. He told them over and over that he was alright, that the cut didn't hurt. But Robb worried, like he always did, and Ella still had to be sure.

"Do you want me to sit with you?" she asked, and Bran shook his head.

"I'm tired now. I think I'll sleep."

"I'll send Old Nan to be with you," Robb said, "so you're not alone."

Bran sighed, but nodded. Ella gave him a soft smile before standing, scratching Summer behind the ears as she passed. Robb closed the door behind them, but Ella pulled him aside to make sure she could speak to him before he went off to deal with the wild woman.

"You should've taken the wolves with you," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. "It would have been safer."

"We'll talk about this later," he replied, taking her forearms and kissing her forehead.

"I'm holding you to that," she warned. "Question the woman and then come to our chambers. I still want to talk to you."

He went the other direction down the hall, and she watched him until he turned the corner. Sighing, she placed a hand on her belly and began towards her chambers, immediately toeing off her boots when she was there. She sat down carefully in her chair - her growing belly was steadily making chairs harder to get in and out of - and began to rub her swollen feet, patting Grey Wind tiredly when he got off of the bed to greet her. He licked her hand and put his ears back when she leaned forward to kiss his head.

She really wished that Robb had brought Summer and Grey Wind with them. She knew that the wolves, in their constantly increasing size, made some of the horses nervous, but it would have been better for protection. Summer had torn the assassin's throat out, and if what Catelyn said was true, he'd done it in a matter of seconds. Perhaps Bran wouldn't have been hurt if Summer had been there.

She must have nodded off in her chair, because she was jolted awake by the sound of the door opening. He chuckled slightly when he noticed that she'd been woken up, closing the door and settling down in his chair across from hers. "Is that the first nap you've had today?" he asked, taking off his boots and setting them by the fire. She nodded, running a hand over her stomach and realizing that she was still hungry. But, she reasoned, food could wait. She still didn't know what happened.

Robb sighed heavily when she asked, and slid off of his chair and onto the floor. With only slight difficulty, Ella did the same, nudging his foot with hers. It took him a few minutes to get through the story, and when he reached the part where he slit the throat of one of the wildling men, she understood why. She scooted across the floor to sit next to him, leaning against the front of his chair.

"You did what you had to do," she said, taking his hand in hers and entwining their fingers. "That man would've killed Bran."

Robb nodded and took a long, slow breath. "I know that," he said. He squeezed her hand. "It's just…"

"I know," she said, soothing him. She pulled him close and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Do you want to talk more on it?"

"No." He shook his head. "I want to forget about that."

"What did the wildling woman say?"

"Not much. She didn't seem very willing with all of us around. I think perhaps if it were only Maester Luwin asking her, she wouldn't be as intimidated." The next few moments were spent in silence. They played a little game with their thumbs and knocked shoulders, until Ella's stomach rumbled loudly and she couldn't ignore the fact that she was hungry any longer. Robb pulled away, standing, and took her arms to pull her up off of the floor.

She groaned once she was on her feet. "I can't feel my ass."

"Can't you?" She yelped and jumped a bit when Robb gave a firm slap to her rump. He chuckled, smile widening when she turned around and hit his chest.

"Mind your hands," she warned, raising an eyebrow at him. He shot her a wolfish grin.

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I'll set Grey Wind on you if you're not careful."

"Oh, will you?"

She nodded teasingly, moving forward and leaning up a bit on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. "He'll bite you," she said quietly.

"I'm not afraid of Grey Wind," he assured, hands resting on her hips.

"Mm, is that so?" She brought her lips closer to his ear. "Then _I'll _bite you."

"I think I might like that."

She laughed and pulled away, moving to pull her boots back on. "Oh, I don't doubt you would." She took his boots from the fire and handed them to him, lightly tapping the tip of his nose. "But why don't we wait until _after_ lunch to see just how much?"

* * *

><p>It was later that evening when word reached them that Robert Baratheon had died. For a week, they went without news until the announcement of newly-crowned King Joffrey's coronation was received. Ella tried to keep Robb's focus away from that, tried to keep him calm and focused on running Winterfell. But he was worried about his sisters and what this meant for them, and even she couldn't help but find herself worrying in the midst of work. They were her sisters by law and she remembered clearly how awful a boy that Joffrey had been. Ned was being held in chains and the gods only knew what was going to happen to Sansa and Arya.<p>

They were taking their supper with Theon when it happened. They'd been laughing and having pleasant conversation, a welcome break from the stressful days. Maester Luwin entered, and they thought nothing of it, until Robb stood to receive the roll of parchment and noticed the grim look on the Maester's face. Luwin clasped his hands behind his back once Robb took the parchment. Robb's expression soured as he read, and as he neared the end, he began to shake his head slowly.

"_Treason?_" He looked up from the roll of parchment. "Sansa wrote this?"

"It is your sister's hand," Maester Luwin nodded, "but the Queen's words. You're summoned to King's Landing to swear fealty to the new King."

"Joffrey puts my father in chains, now he wants his ass kissed?" The disgust was clear in his voice.

"This is a royal command, my lord," Luwin said, sounding deeply concerned. "If you should refuse to obey -"

"I won't refuse," Robb replied firmly. "His Grace summons me to King's Landing, I'll go to King's Landing. But not alone." He handed the parchment back to Luwin and looked the old Maester squarely in the eye. "Call the banners."

Ella's stomach dropped and the mood in the whole room changed. Suddenly it seemed a little colder.

"All of them, my lord?"

"They've all sworn to defend my father, have they not?"

"They have."

"I will see that their words are worth." Luwin made a small noise of agreement, before turning and leaving the three alone in the room. It was silent, the fire still popping and crackling in the hearth and a cool draft brushing across the floor. Robb sat down.

"You afraid?" Theon asked.

Robb looked down at his hand, and it was trembling. "I must be."

"Good."

Robb looked up at him, his tone dark. "Why is that good?"

Theon was not intimidated by him, and gave him a very practical look. "It means you're not stupid."

They sat in silence for a few moments before Theon began to dig into his food again. Ella took a bite of her meal and chewed it slowly. She was hungry, could still feel the grumbling ache in her stomach, but eating sounded like such an impossible thing just then. How could any of them possibly eat when Robb had just called the banners? That was war, she knew. She didn't want to eat.

Robb looked very pale. He stared at his food, and Ella knew well that he was thinking on what he'd just done. But he didn't look as if he regretted it. He looked like he knew he'd made the right choice. The only problem was that the right choice was a daunting one.

They stayed in the great hall a half hour longer than usual, just sitting quietly. Theon stood to leave, squeezing Robb's shoulder before exiting. Ella took a slow breath.

"So what does this mean for us?"

Robb looked up at her, then down at the table again. "I'll be leaving soon, once the banners arrive. I should start planning, and we should make preparations."

Ella nodded. After a moment, she stood, gathering her skirts and moving around the table briefly to kiss the crown of Robb's head, placing her hands on his shoulders. She could feel the tension beneath her fingers. Her hands slid away from his body and she turned to leave the great hall. Outside, she could hear the caw of crows and the flap of their wings as they few away from Winterfell.

**A/N: Hey, everyone!**

**First off, I'm sorry for the shorter chapter. I've had a lot of confidence issues lately and then I had to deal with writer's block, so I agonized over this chapter for a long time. Secondly, I'm also sorry that there wasn't an update last weekend. I had to go out of town last-minute and was away from a computer until Sunday night.**

**rikka21: I'm excited for them to show up! The casting for Oberyn Martell was actually released yesterday, a Chilean actor named Pedro Pascal. Now, I don't know who I envisioned as Oberyn, but it wasn't him. But I have faith that they chose a talented actor, so I guess we'll just have to wait until next year to see.**

**Tempest Rulz: ****That was definitely a filler, yeah, but now we've gotten the ball rolling. Robb is definitely going to do fine. I think Ella's the more worried of the two, especially given the fact that her mother died in childbirth, and the only experience with children she has is from Bran, Rickon, and Arya. We'll see her indulging in her weird cravings soon. Right now, she's getting used to the fact that all she can think about is eating. (And, plus, I think the whole process is making Robb a little weirded out. It's one thing when his mother was pregnant, but now he's around Ella 24/7 and is seeing things first hand.) Thank _you_ for reading!**

**Anzunico: Thank you! They're definitely getting closer, which is unfortunate given the that that he'll be leaving soon. I'm excited to write those things. Baby Stark still has some more cooking to do, but I can't wait to write that part of the story. And, well, regarding anything like the Red Wedding...well, we've still got quite a few chapters until we get to that part in the story. ;) Thanks! I usually have the episode open and write exactly what the characters say, use movements that they use. It really bugs me if I don't do that. Even if I'm one word off, or if I write a movement a line too early, I have to change it. I'm oddly particular about that. I'm glad you like it!**

**onehelluvabutler: Thank you! Typically when I'm writing characters (that aren't OCs) I try to imagine the character's voice saying the lines I write, or imagining them doing something that I wrote them doing. I just do that subconsciously...except with Robb. I have to make a conscious effort to imagine him doing/saying something I've written, so sometimes I'll write a whole passage and then be like, "oh crap, was that in character?" I'm glad I'm writing him well! I'm also very, very glad to hear that you like Ella! She's been a bit of a challenge, but knowing that I'm writing her well is a big, big comfort. As for sticking to canon, I'm going to be following the events of canon (with very minor changes to make room for Ella) up until...probably the beginning/middle of book/season 2. After that, there's going to be a mix of events from the book and things I've made up. Hopefully it all works out well! (Also major props to you for using the term Baby Stark I still can't get over how unbelievably cute I find that.****)**

**SwedishFanFictionLover:**** It has been a while since I've mentioned, huh? Sorry about that! Ella's got brown hair and hazel eyes. :)**

**Huge thanks and lots of love to rikka21, Tempest Rulz, Anzunico, shippolove844, onehelluvabutler, and SwedishFanFictionLover for reviewing! Every time I had doubts that anyone could possibly like my writing, it was all of your reviews that gave me enough confidence to pull through.**

**Also lots of thanks and love to everyone who's added this story to their favorites and who is following this story!**** (I have over 400 follows on this, thank you all so much!)**

**Now, I only need 7 reviews until I reach 200, and I typically don't like to con reviews out of people but I'd be totally willing to let the 200th reviewer know the spoiler of their choice. So. Just saying. Also! (And this isn't to con reviews out of you, I genuinely want to know,) what do you think: boy or girl? Someone said twins, what do you want it to be? **

**Thanks everyone for reading, I really appreciate all of the support I've gotten so far. Hugs and kisses to all of you, I hope you all have a wonderful day/night. **

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	22. Twenty Two

XXII

The first to arrive were the men of House Cerwyn, and only hours later, the men of House Tallhart arrived. Over the next few days, Winterfell became fuller than it had been in years, as men came from the Dreadfort and Deepwood Motte and Last Hearth. Ella couldn't say how many times she had to stop what she was doing to go down and greet the arriving bannermen.

Dinners became loud and bordering on wild. Ella never realized just how much Northerners could eat, and she supposed that it must be a Northern trait to be able to understand someone with a mouth full of meat and bones. Robb's time was largely occupied by the arriving bannermen, so Ella had taken to bringing Bran to the study with her so he could learn the ins and outs of making sure Winterfell was running smoothly. He was sure to make a good Lord of Winterfell, very diligent in his work and quick to understand tasks.

But though the days were hectic and busy, Ella had Robb all to herself at night. She'd been very somber since he'd called the banners, afraid of running Winterfell without him and worried what his going South might bring, but unwilling to voice any of her worries. She and Robb talked about anything that wasn't what was going on, and they barred their door so that the only interruptions were those that were those that were too important to wait until morning.

Ella had her head on Robb's chest, tucked against his side just where he liked her to be. The fire was popping in the hearth and rain was pattering outside of their window. Grey Wind kept their feet warm by lying across the foot of the bed. She was playing idly with Robb's fingers, her other hand pressed against her belly were she could feel little flutters of movement within. Robb, to his disappointment, couldn't quite feel them. It was more of a tingling in her gut, and from the outside, couldn't be felt. It was an amazing feeling, though, and she reveled in it each time she felt it. That was her baby, and no matter how many times she said it to herself, it still sounded just as wonderful.

"You know," she said softly, looking up at him with big eyes, "we haven't come up with a name for the baby yet."

"Did you have any ideas?"

"Well, one. I was thinking, should we have a girl, that we could name her Elyana. It was my mother's name."

"Elyana Stark," Robb said, thinking. He nodded. "I like it. And if it's a boy? Do you want to name him for your father?"

She thought for a moment, before wrinkling her nose and shaking her head. "No. Hannon Stark? I don't like it. Perhaps we could name him for _your_ father, or Brandon, for your uncle."

"Or Benjen, for my other uncle."

Ella's eyes lit up, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Mm, Benjen. I like that."

"Benjen for a boy, then?"

She nodded, closing her eyes contentedly and snuggling closer into his side. "Yes. Benjen for a boy." Silence fell between them. Robb placed a hand on her belly, still hoping that he might feel the little flutter that Ella had been describing, but she told him that it was probably still too early yet. But he wanted to feel the babe move before he left. He might not be there to see it born.

"What if it's twins?" he asked, and then Ella opened her eyes and gave him a very stern look. After a moment, she turned over on her side, facing away from him. He chuckled, pulling her closer so her back was flush against his chest. "What's so wrong with twins?"

She snorted. "We'll talk about that when they're coming out of _you_."

* * *

><p>Occasionally, Ella found, her pregnancy had some perks. Sure, her feet were swollen, her back hurt, and she peed more times in one hour than she used to in one day, but Robb was a worrywart, and the moment she observed that she was feeling particularly fatigued that day, he ordered her to stay in bed and rest. That was how she wound up lounging with a book of poetry and a bowl of her latest craving.<p>

She finished the book of poetry by lunchtime, and was left to eat and think until she found something to do. And then she got an idea. She set the bowl down on her belly, very briefly taking her hands away and readjusting the bowl's placement several times until it found the steadiest position. The door opened just as she had gotten the bowl to balance on her belly, taking slow breaths so as not to jostle it and letting her hands fall away.

"Look." She smiled up at Robb as he entered. "I learned a new trick."

He laughed, shaking his head at her. "Is this what you've been doing all day?"

"I got bored of everything else." She took the sausage link that was sticking out of the bowl and used it as a spoon, scooping out the paste in the bowl and then biting of the end of it. Robb gave her a sour look.

"What are you eating?"

"Mashed apples with a sausage link." She pondered her next 'spoonful' for a moment. "I think I remember sprinkling some cinnamon in."

She continued to eat blithely, oblivious to the look Robb was giving her. He looked positively disgusted, revolted that she had the food mixed together in a bowl, let alone in her mouth. "How could you _possibly_ like that?" he asked, face still pulled in a sickened expression.

She frowned. "I'm hungry, I'm happy. Don't pester me." She waved her sausage link at him while she spoke. He took the sausage link from her hand, taking a bite and giving back to her, then rising from the bed before she could swing her fist at him. He chuckled, toeing off his boots and setting them by the fire.

And then Ella gasped loudly, and when he whirled around to face her she was staring at her stomach in surprise.

"Are you alright?"

"Come here!" She set the bowl of mashed apples and the sausage link to the side, reaching out for his hand when he rushed over. He sat by her side as she placed his hand over her stomach, and it was completely silent and still between them until Robb felt a nudge against his hand. His eyes went wide and he took a sharp intake of breath. Ella looked up at him with a big smile.

"It kicked," she said, beaming. "It's not just moving. It _kicked_."

A grin broke out on Robb's face, and he gathered Ella up in a tight hug. She laughed, pressing kisses to his cheeks.

"Oh, I love you," she sighed, hands on his cheeks and pulling him into another kiss. "I love you so much."

He kissed her hard before pulling away and grimacing. "You taste like apples and sausage."

That only made her chuckle and kiss him again. He'd tightened his arms around her, but then a knock came at the door. They both sighed, and she took hold of his chin and pulled him closer for a brief kiss before he let her go and went to answer the door.

"My Lord," she heard, "Lord Karstark has arrived."

And then Ella's good mood slipped away, and she stood from the bed. Robb thanked the squire and closed the door, turning to her. He grimaced.

"Come," he said softly. "It's time for supper."

* * *

><p>"For thirty years I've been making corpses out of men, boy." The Greatjon's voice was loud, and carried well over the voices of all of the men in the great hall. "<em>I'm<em> the one you want leading the vanguard."

Ella sighed. This conversation had gone on for ten minutes, without any compromise on either side. She took another bite of her meat, looking between the Greatjon and Robb. Banners were hanging on the walls around them, the Boltons' flayed man and the bull moose of the Hornwoods, and more sigils than Ella could recognize. It was written all over Robb's face that this conversation was riding on his last nerve.

"Galbart Glover will lead the van."

Jon Umber leaned back in his chair. "The bloody Wall will _melt_ before an Umber marches behind a Glover!" He stuck a meaty thumb at his chest. "_I _will lead the van, or I will take my men and march them home."

But Robb didn't take well to his men giving him orders. He looked up darkly, a frown set firmly on his lips. "You are welcome to do so, Lord Umber," he said, rising from his seat. "And when I am done with the Lannisters, I will march back North, root you out of your keep, and hang you for an oathbreaker."

Ella heard Grey Wind whine by her feet, and was sure the ever vigilant wolf had his ears pricked in interest, eyes trained on Robb. Galbart Glover, who sat at Ella's right, said nothing. The Greatjon looked positively insulted. He threw his goblet from the table and shot to his feet, sending his chair toppling behind him.

"Oathbreaker, is it?" he roared, and the room went silent. "I'll not sit here and swallow insults from a boy so green he pisses grass!"

Several things happened at once. The Greatjon reached for his dagger, Theon rose and put his hand on his sword, but it was all for naught. A grey blur went flying onto and over the table, and then the wolf launched himself onto the Greatjon, pushing him to the ground. It was silence except for growling and yelling, and with a horrible crack, Grey Wind was away, leaving the Greatjon writhing and shouting in pain on the ground. The room had gone quiet, all but Ella and Bran standing.

Grey Wind still stood off to the side, growling and baring his bloody teeth, Lord Umber's thick fingers nowhere to be found. The Greatjon stood, holding his bloodied hand.

"My Lord Father taught me that it was death to bare steel against your liege lord," Robb said, voice dangerously calm. "Doubtless, the Greatjon only meant to cut my meat for me."

The Greatjon kicked his chair, and it slid with a clatter across the floor. "Your meat," he ground out, and was silent for several seconds, looking around the room at the bannermen who sat among them, then from his missing fingers to Robb at the head of the table. "Is bloody tough."

And of all things that he could've done, the Greatjon began to laugh. Ella watched on in confused amazement as Robb began to laugh, too. In a matter of seconds the men in the room had erupted in laughter, like someone had told a joke. Grey Wind padded to her side, resting his bloody maw in her lap, and she absently scratched him behind the ears. _Seven hells_, she thought, as men took to their seats again and bit chunks out of their meat. _What have I been married into?_

Ella realized then that perhaps she really knew nothing of the North. The dinner continued in an enjoyable manner, happy chatter starting up again. The Greatjon sought no care for his missing fingers, only tied a napkin tight around his hand and continued eating again. She looked at Robb, eyes wide and still confused.

"This is how you settle things in the North?" she asked, making sure to keep her voice quiet. Seven hells if she was going to let any Northman assume she didn't know what she was getting herself into. Robb gave a noncommittal shrug, patting Grey Wind when the wolf came seeking his approval.

"I'm leading them into battle," he said. "If they don't respect me now, they never will."

* * *

><p>It was storming outside again. Robb had gone to say goodbye to Bran and Rickon. It was strange to see him in his armor. It was newly made for him and it fit him perfectly. Ella had to help him with a few pieces, and her fingers fumbled on the buckles and ties. He looked like a proper soldier, with his swords and daggers. He looked like his father. He kissed her forehead and told her that he'd be outside in a moment, and for her to meet him there. The door closed heavily behind him.<p>

She turned to her wardrobe and pulled out her heaviest cloak, then sat in her chair to pull on her boots. Already, she could feel the lump in her throat and the ache in her heart. She took a moment to steel herself before she left, and then she exited her chambers quietly.

When she reached the entrance hall, Rickon was being led away by Maester Luwin. The boy had tears running down his cheeks, and the maester was speaking softly to him. Ella bit her lip. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, stepping outside in search of Robb. She found Grey Wind first; the wolf sat dutifully beside his master's horse. Ella went down on her knees and wrapped her arms around him, pressing little kisses to the top of his head and all down his nose, whispering lovingly to her 'puppy.'

When she stood, Robb was behind her. She swallowed thickly, then moved with small steps towards him. His hands hung limply at his sides, and she took them, squeezing.

"I don't want you to go," she said softly, voice hardly carrying over the sound of rain. Robb pulled her close.

"I know." She couldn't help the choked sob that slipped out. He pulled her close and she buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around him tightly like he'd disappear if she held him any looser. She felt him press kisses to the crown of her head, and then he pulled back and brought his hands up to cup her face.

"I love you," he said firmly, looking her square in the eye. "Don't you ever forget that."

"And I love you," she replied, hardly seeing through her tears. He kissed her hard, wrapping his arms so tightly around her that she almost couldn't breathe. They pressed their foreheads together when his lips left hers, and his hands went to cradle the bump of her belly. Her hands covered his, and she gave him a sad, bitter smile. Very briefly, she cursed her pregnancy, that it was the one thing that kept her from following Robb down South.

"We'll be waiting for you. Just come home soon."

He kissed her lips again, then her nose, then her forehead, and pulled her against his chest. "I will. I promise."

Her hands fell away from his, and he turned to mount his horse. The bannermen and their soldiers were trailing out of the courtyard, and Ella stood and watched each one of them leave. Before long, it was Robb at the gates, Grey Wind running ahead as he took one last sweeping look behind him, and then he kicked his horse and went through the gates, and he and the men of the North left Winterfell.

**A/N: Hello!**

**Sorry for another short chapter. It's sort of another filler. Things should be picking up soon.** **Hopefully the sads make up for it.**

**I had a few reviews asking about Jeyne/Talisa. That'll be answered at the bottom after the review replies. :)**

**shippolove844:****Thank you! I'm glad your liking things so far! Sorry about the smut, it may be a little while before there's any hanky panky goin' on. I considered throwing something in there to make the chapter longer, but I couldn't work out a way that I liked that flowed with the story instead of just having a random sex scene in the middle of the story. :P As for Talisa, that's answered in another reply below.**

**duchess123: Thanks! I'm glad you liked it! Hopefully you get to read this chapter before you leave. I'll make sure to have lots of chapters for you to read when you get back! **

**Little Emily: Your reaction made me grin and cackle. Now I know how it must feel to be GRRM.**

**WhatsGoingOn: Like I said, unfortunately, I couldn't find anywhere to fit that in. But I think it's safe to assume that the time between dinner and leaving was spent doing more than just putting on Robb's armor. ;) Thank you so much! I don't think my writing's ever made someone keysmash before. I'm touched :')**

**Anzunico: Thank you! I figured, what with Robb leaving, I'd try to include a lot of fluff to make up for the lack of it in the coming chapters - hence the face that majority of this chapter is fluff overload. I really wanted her to go with him! In the early drafts she did, and ended up having the baby somewhere in the middle of Westeros, but then I was like, "that's kind of illogical," so I cut it. I'm sad that I don't get to write for them for a while (together, I mean - Robb will still have scenes here and there) but hopefully they'll be together again soon.**

**As always, hugs and kisses to shippolove844, duchess123, trustbroccoli23, Guest, the-autumn-leaves, Bear 101, Little Emily, Hikari, WhatsGoingOn, Anzunico, and amrawo for reviewing! Your input and support is really appreciated, and I'm so thankful for you all! Additionally, much much love to everyone who's faved and followed!**

**Now, for the Talisa question: Let me be honest with you here. I have no effin clue if I'm going to include Talisa. I have no clue what to do with her. But given that I like her, odds are that she'll make an appearance sometime later in the story. As for her relationship with Robb...well, I can't give everything away, can I?**

**Again, huge thanks to _all_ of my readers for being so wonderfully supportive. I was so hyped from the reaction to chapter 21 that I managed to spit this chapter out in a day, which is the quickest I've written a chapter in months. I have so much love for all of you and I can't find words to express just how much your support means to me!**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. **

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	23. Twenty Three

XXIII

It hadn't stopped raining since Robb left. The clouds were low and dark and thunder rumbled in the sky. Frankly, Winterfell looked as gloomy as Ella felt. But she found the patter of rain against the shutters calming, and it helped her to stay relaxed as she did her work. A fire cracked and popped in the hearth and Summer and Shaggydog were beneath the desk between her and Bran. This had become their routine in the past week.

Bran was very good at being Lord of Winterfell. Growing up, he'd watched his brother and father with quiet understanding. He was very wise for his age, and a quick learner. By the end of the week, he'd understood half of the duties better than Ella herself did.

He was a worrier, like Robb, though not quite as bad. He often asked Ella if she was feeling alright, and reminded her that she could take breaks whenever she wanted, that he'd be fine to do his work. On the days when it was harder, and the symptoms of pregnancy simply could not be ignored, she took him up on his offer. Usually, though, she smiled kindly and declined him. And he never pushed her to take breaks, trusting that if she were truly overwhelmed, she'd tell him.

This morning, Rickon was curled on Ella's lap- or what was left of it-, and dozing off while he waited for Maester Luwin to come collect him for his lessons. Bran had his lessons in the afternoon, when their work would be done for the day, and Rickon would be handed over to Ella for her to entertain. It didn't take them long to realize that he had to be with one of them at all times. He ran away from the servants when left with them.

"Isn't your nameday soon, Ella?" Bran asked demurely, still half-focused on his work. Ella had to think of what day it was.

"In about a month, yes."

"We should do something for you," Rickon said, lifting his head from where it was resting on her shoulder. "A party!"

"No, no." She shook her head. "We're not dealing with the expenses of a party." Expenses were her job, and she was _not_ dealing with that. "And besides, all of the North's gone South with Robb. Who would come?"

"We should do something special, though," Bran insisted, now looking up from his work. She flicked the feather of her quill across his nose and looked back down at her work.

"No, you needn't. Although, a month from now, I'm sure I'd _really_ enjoy a foot rub."

Rickon wrinkled his nose. "I think I'll get you something else."

She urged him off of her lap when Maester Luwin opened the door, standing with his hands clasped in front of him. "I trust everything is going well?" he asked, placing a hand on Rickon's shoulder when the boy ran to him, Shaggydog in tow. Both Ella and Bran nodded, only looking up from their work long enough to watch the door swing shut.

The work was easy that day, and Bran must have had a lot of time to think. Not too long after Rickon left, he set his quill down and clasped his hands on the surface of the desk, clearly in thought. Ella noticed but continued her work, knowing that whenever Bran was ready to speak what was on his mind, he would. For the meantime, she toed off her boots and squeezed her stocking-covered toes under Summer to keep them warm.

"Robb hasn't written yet," he said, very matter-of-fact. Ella finished off what she was writing and looked up, the quill held loosely in her hands. She took a moment to gather her thoughts before she answered. _Don't you think that's all I've thought about lately?_

"He's busy, I'm sure. He hasn't been gone long." Damn her emotions, she was tearing up and she felt her throat closing. She dipped her quill and looked down at her paper so Bran wouldn't see. "He'll write soon enough."

"Do you think he misses us?" he asked.

She let out a quiet huff. Sometimes she forgot that Bran was still just a child, and children were prone to asking questions like these. Again, she had to take a moment to gather herself, and then she looked up and said with absolute certainty, "Of course he does. I'm sure there's no place he'd rather be right now than here."

"And Mother?"

She gave him a small, reassuring smile. "Her as well. I'm sure they both want to be home as soon as possible."

Not much happened in the weeks that passed. Winterfell was quiet, and the only exciting things to ever happen were receiving Robb's letters or hearing word of his victories in the South. They learned soon that Catelyn had decided to continue South with Robb, and Rickon and Bran were furious, though only the younger of the brothers showed it. They were hurt, but they didn't understand that Robb needed their mother for guidance and support.

Robb sent her a letter a few weeks into his journey South that he'd been forced to betroth Rickon and Arya to daughters and sons of Frey. Ella pitied them, for their reputation as greedy, wiry people was known through the whole of the Riverlands. It wasn't unlike Walder to request the hands of Stark children in return for something as simple as passage over a bridge. But, Robb wrote, it was an _important_ bridge. And it wasn't as if Rickon or Arya had to know right now, was it?

Ella had fallen asleep reading Robb's most recent letter. She hadn't realized she'd dozed off until she was woken up again, startled awake by the feeling of someone climbing on her bed. When she opened her eyes, Rickon was sat on the bed beside her, legs crossed, holding a little canvas in his hands.

"Happy nameday!" he cheered, and Bran, being held by Hodor in the doorway, repeated the sentiment. She smiled groggily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Thank you, boys," she yawned, covering her mouth. Bran had Hodor set him down on Ella's other side.

"Rickon wanted to paint you something for your birthday," Bran said, and motioned for Rickon to show her the picture. The boy gave her a wide smile, and turned the canvas around to reveal a little painting, clearly done by a child's hand, of a little boy, which Ella guessed was meant to be Rickon, holding hands with an adult woman, which she supposed was her, given the completely round middle he'd given her. She chuckled, smiling wide at him and pulling her into her side.

"I love it," she told him, kissing his unruly hair. "Though I must ask, where did you get the paint and canvas from?"

Red cheeks and a sheepish smile told her all she needed to know. She ruffled his hair and placed the painting in her lap, looking up at Bran.

"I found a woodcarver in Winter Town," he said. "He's carving your bow, because I thought you might like decoration on it."

Before she could stop herself, Ella found her eyes filling with tears. That started happening more and more lately - crying about things that didn't really matter. The day before, she accidentally dropped her boot and cried for an hour straight afterwards, made even more upset by the fact that she didn't know why she was crying. Perhaps, she thought, she was crying because she couldn't use her bow until after she had the baby – and even then, who knew when she'd find the time?

With a watery smile, she pulled Bran and Rickon close, hugging them tight. "Thank you, boys," she said, voice soft in her effort not to burst out sobbing all over them. Taking a deep breath, she pulled away, blinking away the tears that had gathered. "Now," she said, "why don't we go down and have a nice breakfast, hmm?" She ushered the boys off of the bed and swung her legs over, stretching. "Maester Luwin, send Analysa in, please. And you boys," she tugged at Rickon's sleep shirt, "go get dressed."

Analysa had to start letting out Ella's dresses in order for them to fit (which also caused Ella to go into a fit of tears more than once) and the maester had ordered lots of rest when Ella reported that the scars on her bad leg were hurting more often. To get her mind off of her troubles, she'd taken to making sure she had a very set schedule, full of work or books to keep her mind occupied.

The morning was boring and Ella had spent it reading. Sick of being confined inside, she threw her cloak over her shoulders and escaped to the godswood. She felt like she finally had room to breathe, refreshed by the fresh air and the sound of the birds in the trees. It relaxed her to be sat outdoors with a book, and she didn't consider going inside until her stomach growled. She'd just been about to go off in search of something burnt black and covered in gravy when an unexpected interruption shocked her from her thoughts. Maester Luwin had entered unbidden, looking immensely troubled. Ella rose from her seat immediately, her book in one hand and her other resting on the swell of her belly. He was holding a piece of parchment loosely in his hand, and suddenly Ella felt her heart drop into her stomach.

"Milady," he said, voice shaking and thick with emotion. "Milady, you should sit down."

* * *

><p>"I wanted to talk to you," she started, choking out the words. Bran waited patiently, staring up at her with his hands clasped in his lap. She'd been stood before him for several minutes, trying to find the words to explain this to him gently. She was beginning to wonder if she should have accepted Maester Luwin's offer to tell them. She'd thought that perhaps it would be better coming from her, but Maester Luwin was well versed in the ways of life and would have known how to say it better. He would've known how to say it at all.<p>

"A raven came this morning," she continued, tightening her shawl around her shoulders. Tears were gathering in her eyes again and a lump rose in her throat, preventing her from saying anything more. The only sounds around them were the quiet whistle of the breeze past the window. The morning had dawned clear and bright, wind rustling the trees of the Weirwood. Ella had thought it would be a beautiful day.

"Father's dead, isn't he?" Bran's voice was hollow and cold, and like a crack in the icy silence of the room. Ella's face twisted, confusion and sympathy all at once.

"Bran..."

"I dreamed it," he explained. "Last night. Is that what the raven came for?"

She didn't know what to say to that, so she didn't say anything at all. Instead, she sat next to him on the bed and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, curling them both in her shawl. Bran was quiet, sniffling and trying to calm his breathing and not make it obvious that he was wiping away his tears. But Ella knew how it felt to lose a parent, could feel the echoes of pain and desperation throbbing in her chest, so she gathered him closer and he buried his face in her shawl and cried and cried.

She cried too, in the end, wept for the boys, for the girls down South, for Robb and for Catelyn out at war. She didn't want to think of how to tell Rickon – there was already so much happening that he didn't understand. For a boy of six who hadn't known death, the concept that Ned would never return from down South would be hard to explain. Ella almost didn't want to, wanted to spare him from that crippling pain which she knew all too well, but he deserved to know.

Ella stayed with Rickon through the night. He'd cried himself to sleep that night, and she was afraid that he'd wake up during the night and become distraught again. He didn't quite understand that his father was dead, only knew that Ned wasn't coming home, but that was enough to make him upset. He'd tried running off at first, but a maid had caught him going down the stairs and toted him back to his room very patiently, paying to mind to the fight he was putting up.

He was frustrated, angry because he didn't understand why his family was leaving him and even angrier that one of them was never going to come home even when everyone promised he would. It had been months since Ned's last letter, wherein he told the boys that he loved them and missed them and that he'd visit soon to see them again. Rickon had kept the letter and hid it somewhere, and shortly after lunch, he came storming up to Ella with tears in her eyes, waving the parchment in his hand and shouting, "He said he'd come back, Ella! He _said_!"

Bran had called Rickon into his room while Ella took her daily nap, the day taking a heavier toll on her than lately, and he talked very calmly and firmly to his brother until Rickon was settled down. No one knew what Bran had said to him, but afterwards he seemed to understand that Ned wasn't coming back because he _couldn't_, because when Ella had gone up to tuck him in, he asked her in a quiet, pitiful voice, "Father will be happy where he is now, right?"

Ella received a letter in the morning from Robb; a very short, rambling letter in which he told her how desperately he wished he could've saved Ned in time, and how he would save Sansa and Arya before something happened to them, too. He told her that when he went to King's Landing, he would kill the Lannisters, every single one of them, until Ned was avenged.

The ink was smudged in several places, written with a sloppy and emotional hand. There were several places where the parchment was warped and the ink blurred where tears had fallen. Ella figured he must have had to take a moment to calm himself before continuing the letter, because the writing got so messy she could hardly read it before there was a break in the letter and it continued on in a steady hand again. At the end of the letter, he told her he loved her and to tell the boys that he loved them, too, and that he and Cat would be home soon with Sansa and Arya in tow.

Ella folded the letter very carefully and slipped it beneath her pillow before she left to start her day.

* * *

><p>The pain in their hearts lessened over the course of the week, the daily routine helping to instill in them a sense of normalcy. Life continued on at Winterfell, but it felt wrong to be picking up and continuing when everything felt in shambles. In many ways, it was a good thing that life hadn't completely returned to normal when the next bit of news came, because it was news that would ensure that nothing would ever be the same again.<p>

Once again, Maester Luwin asked her to sit down. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest, but he looked far less troubled this time. _Good_, she thought, _I cannot handle so much in one week_. He sat down across from her in the solar, setting down the parchment in front of her. She took it and unrolled it, but he spoke before she had a chance to read it.

"Robb has been crowned King in the North."

The parchment fell out of her hands. "W-_what_?" she choked, after several seconds of trying to gather her scrambled thoughts.

"The bannermen have proclaimed Robb as their King," he explained. "As of last night, the North has seceded from the Seven Kingdoms."

Ella closed her eyes, bringing her hands up to bury her face in them, mind positively whirling. Maester Luwin gave her a few moments to collect herself, coming to attention again when she lowered her hands and folded them neatly in her lap. She took a shaking breath.

"What does this mean for us?" she asked, quietly and earnestly. Luwin took a moment to consider that, shifting very slightly in his seat.

"It means, Your Grace, that this war has just become far more dangerous for all of us."

**A/N: So first off, I'm sorry that this chapter took so long. A combination of writer's block and unbeatable procrastination made this chapter super difficult. I'd started to see writing more as a chore with this chapter and bleh. But chapter 24 is already half-written and should be along much sooner than this chapter! Hopefully I can get chapters out more often than once a month but I've just started work and school again so life's all very hectic right now. **

**duchess123: I'm glad you could see it! I definitely think Talisa's going to be showing up. I haven't decided how I'm going to write her in yet, but I love her and thus want to include her.**

**Anzunico: Worry not! There's an odd sort of fluff coming during the next chapter. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Ella over the next few chapters. This is definitely a time of great change for her. I can't wait to write all of the interesting bits! We're really getting into the good stuff now. **

**WhatsGoingOn: Haha! I have to say, I can't tell if I miss writing Robb or Grey Wind more. And she does love that wolf an awful lot. :P**

**Zoe: Love interest, I can't say (spoilers!) but I can promise that she won't become a villain, unless for whatever reason they write into season 3 that she was secretly a spy before her death or something, which I doubt will happen. I love Talisa, I'm excited to write her! (It could be because of my never ending love for Oona Chaplin, though.)**

**Kathleencade17: Thank you! We're going to find out _very_ soon whether she's having a boy or a girl. As for sparing Robb...well, this wouldn't be Game of Thrones without surprises, would it?**

**Hugs and butterfly kisses to rikka21, duchess123, amrawo, Allimba, shippolove884, Anzunico, Unicorn-mad, WhatsGoingOn, Zoe, sPaRkzZz, DoNotPanic, Kathleencade17, PurpleWingedAngel, and mscalliope for reviewing! I appreciate all of your input so much and I reread every one of your reviews constantly to keep morale up.**

**Additional thanks to everyone who's faved, alerted, and followed. If you didn't fave, follow, alert, or review, thanks anyway. The fact that people read this blows my mind and I seriously appreciate every single one of you so much, especially for being so patient while I've tried to work out difficulties with chapters and whatnot.**

**Like I said, Chapter 24 will be up as soon as I can! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, thanks everyone so much for reading.**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	24. Twenty Four

XXIV

"You don't want Balon Greyjoy as an ally."

"We need his ships, they say he has two hundred."

"They say a million rats live in the sewers of King's Landing. Should we rally them to fight for us?"

"I understand you don't trust Lord Greyjoy-"

The ladle Catelyn was holding dropped into the vase of wine with a splash. "I don't trust Lord Greyjoy because he is not trustworthy." She moved to sit across from Robb. "Your father had to go to _war_ to end his rebellion."

"Yes," Robb nodded. "And now I'm the one rebelling against the throne. And before me it was Father… You married one rebel and gave birth to another."

Catelyn's voice was steely and pleading. "I mothered more than just rebels. A fact you seem to have forgotten."

Her meaning was not lost on Robb. His eyes followed her briefly as she stood before he looked down again. "If I trade the Kingslayer for the girls, my bannermen would string me up by my feet."

"You want to leave Sansa in the Queen's hands?" Robb looked down. "And Arya! I haven't heard a _word_ about Arya! What are we fighting for if not for them?"

"It's more _complicated_ than that, you know it is!"

His outburst brought them both to silence. Catelyn stepped forward and sat.

"It's time for me to go home." Robb looked up at her. "I haven't seen Bran or Rickon in months. And Ella – I'm sure the babe will be here any time now."

"You can't go to Winterfell," he said quietly. Catelyn looked at him with disbelief.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I will sent Rodrik to look after the boys. Maester Luwin is there should Ella need him. Because tomorrow, you'll ride south to the Stormlands."

"Why in the name of all of gods would you-"

"Because I need you to negotiate with Renly Baratheon," he interrupted. His voice was gentle, but there was an insistence in his tone that made Catelyn loathe to deny him. "He's rallied an army of a hundred thousand. You know him, you know his family."

"I haven't seen Renly Baratheon since he was a boy." She stood, looking away from him. "You have a hundred other lords-"

"Which of these lords do I trust more than you?" Robb stood and came over to Catelyn, and sometimes she forgot how tall her son was, how much authority he commanded when he stood to his full height and spoke sternly. "If Renly sides with us, we'll outnumber them two-to-one. When they feel the jaws beginning to shut, they'll sue for peace, we'll get the girls back, and we'll all go home. For good."

And then Catelyn saw in her son the desperation that lie beneath all his actions and words. He'd marched south for vengeance and his bannermen called him King, but he wanted home, where he grew up and felt safe. He wanted family, and things that were _normal_ and not this war and all the things it had brought. In that respect, he was no different than her.

And in her heart of hearts, Catelyn knew what she had to do.

"I will ride at first light," she said, and saw both hope and worry in her son's eyes. Robb kissed her forehead, then embraced her, resting his head against hers.

"We will all be together again soon, I promise."

Catelyn pulled away enough to look him in the eye. "You've done _so_ well. Your father would be proud."

There was pain in his eyes, until he locked it away and turned. "Give Lord Renly my regards."

"_King_ Renly," she corrected. Robb turned to her. "There's a King in every corner now."

* * *

><p>She'd been at it for hours.<p>

The pains had come in the early hours of the morning, irregular and calm, and not unlike the false pains that she'd had for weeks. But then they persisted, and came regularly, and got worse, and Luwin had her bedbound by lunch.

It was alright, at first. Even if sitting around in bed wasn't her ideal way to spend a day, she had books brought from the library, and Rickon and Bran were allowed to see her before they went to bed. In the evening, she slept between pains, and sometimes through them, if she was lucky. But as the night progressed, the pains became worse, and closer together. No matter how much she tried to sleep, she only felt more and more tired.

Before long, the pains were all-consuming. She'd close her eyes, breathe as deep as she could, and grab onto whatever she could reach, toes curling and teeth clenching. More than once, the pains brought groans past her lips, and when they ended, she wanted nothing more than to lie limply in bed.

The maids brought water for her to sip, and cool cloths to blot against her forehead and neck, and for that, Ella was grateful. She could never remember a time when she felt so uncomfortable. Lying on her back hurt, but shifting to lie on her side was so difficult. The maester would press his fingers inside of her every hour or so to see how she was progressing, and the only thing she could do was close her eyes and try to relax until he was finished.

Just before dawn, she began to feel an urgent need to push. It was terrifying and primal, and above all of the discomfort, Ella felt scared. She couldn't quite place why, only knew that when her legs were bent and pulled up and the Maester sat at the foot of her bed and told her it was time, she'd never felt more afraid in her life.

She felt alone. It was a silly thought, she'd realize later, in a room full of maids with the maester and Analysa who cared for her. But that wasn't enough. She felt like a stranger all over again, like a scared little girl in over her head. She wanted someone to hold her hand. She wanted Robb, or Catelyn, or her mother. But Robb was south, and so was Catelyn, and her mother – her mother had died in the childbed, and–

Ella sobbed. She didn't want to do this anymore, but if what the maester said was true, she'd only just started.

"Like that, milady, perfect," the maids encouraged, tired and weary but still smiling to put her at ease.

"A quick breath, and then again," the maester instructed, seeming very calm and at ease. Ella gasped, trying to gather as much air as she could before bearing down again.

One hand held firmly to the headboard behind her, knuckles white, and the other was gripping the furs on the bed. Analysa dipped another cloth in cool water, pressing it to Ella's cheeks. "It's almost here," she murmured gently, stroking Ella's hair off her forehead.

Ella released a breath and a pained cry. It seemed that the pains didn't stop anymore, only got more intense. The maids and the maester were telling her that she had to continue, and she did, even though she really didn't want to. She couldn't stop, she realized, and found that fighting her body wouldn't work.

At one point, the pain overtook her. She let out a scream, toes curling and head tossing. Analysa shushed her soothingly, brushing her hand along Ella's forehead.

"You can do it, m'lady," she said, but it was clear in her voice that she was fretting. "You can get through this."

Ella shook her head, panting heavily. "I can't," she said, and felt like her whole body is shaking. "I can't. I won't. I want to stop."

She cried out again, grabbed behind her knees.

"The babe is nearly out, milady," Maester Luwin said gently, but his tone was firm and she knew that it would be dangerous to prolong her ordeal.

"I'm scared," she blurted, hands fisting in the furs again. Analysa shook her head.

"Don't be, m'lady, the babe is almost here!"

_That's why I'm scared,_ she wanted to scream, but it caught in her throat as pain seized her again. The maids were all saying things to her in their frantic little voices, but Ella had stopped listening a long time ago. She no longer found any comfort in what they had to say.

Ella took in a deep breath, put her hands behind her legs, and bore down hard. Time seemed to slow down, just then. She could see the faint blue light of early morning coming in through the slats of the shutters. She could see the dying fire still jumping in the hearth. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears.

And then...it was over. And there he was.

Ella relaxed into her pillows, eyes never leaving the babe that was placed on her chest. Her hands went to cradle her son, even though the maids were wiping at him with damp cloths. It was just a moment before the babe curled his hands into fists, and his lusty cries filled the room. And then she began to cry, because she was still scared but she was so happy and she couldn't properly sort out the things she felt. But her baby was here, finally, she could hold him and love him and keep him as safe in her arms as he'd been in her belly. Nothing mattered but him, now– the pain of the last day was gone from her mind. When she set eyes on her son and heard the beautiful sound of his healthy cry, he was the only thing on her mind.

The maids swaddled the babe and then Ella could hold her son properly. She could do nothing more than blink sleepily at her boy, tears still trailing down her cheeks as she hiccupped sobs, one hand gently coming up to smooth over the dark auburn hair on his head, just a touch of red and Ella knew that he had Robb's hair.

"Congratulations, milady," Maester Luwin said quietly, smiling down at her. She could only offer him a tired smile, looking back down at her boy and then letting her eyes fall closed. "What will you call him?" Luwin asked softly, sitting on the side of the bed. Her eyes fluttered open, sweeping over her son's face just briefly. He'd calmed by now, and was lying peacefully at her breast.

"Benjen," she sighed, and the name never felt sweeter on her lips.

She dreamed of Robb, that morning, after she'd been washed and changed and brought back to bed. She dreamed that he was with her...just sitting with her. They weren't talking, or doing anything at all, really. Just sitting together, with their son, marveling at him. And when Ella woke up, she was sad.

* * *

><p>She woke up to bells. The bells of Winterfell were being tolled, all for the little babe asleep in the cradle beside her bed. She sat up, feeling sore in many places, and gingerly swung her legs over the side of the bed, reaching to gather her son up in her arms.<p>

With Benjen safely tucked in her arms, she relaxed back against the pillows again. She felt so empty, so incomplete, and she missed her son even as he slept in her arms. A little while later- she wasn't sure how long, because it was easy to lose herself in Benjen's sweet face- there was a timid knock on the door, before it cracked open, and a little face peeked in.

"Ella?" When Rickon saw that she was awake, he opened the door fully, revealing Maester Luwin and Hodor with Bran in the hallway behind him. She smiled.

"Come here, little one," she invited, smiling softly. Rickon grinned, scurrying forward and climbing onto the bed, craning his neck to peer at the little bundle in her arms. He settled down beside her, and Bran was set down on the bed on the other side of Rickon.

After a pillow was placed in Rickon's lap, Ella carefully handed Benjen to him. The boy was delighted to see the baby, beaming down at his nephew.

"And I can teach him how to play?" he asked, looking at Ella with big eyes. She gave him a graceful smile.

"Once he's big enough, yes." After a few moments, it was Bran's turn, and he smiled once Benjen was settled in his arms. He looked down at the baby.

"He looks like Robb," he remarked solemnly. Ella felt her heart clench in her chest.

"He does, doesn't he?" she murmured, soft and sad and with an aching heart. "Just like Robb."

Rickon was still in his sleep clothes, and had to leave soon to be dressed. Bran sat with her, holding his nephew and looking into his face as he recounted the story of Benjen the Sweet, who was a King of Winter– just like Robb, he'd said again, and then started playing with Benjen's little hands. Ella didn't want to think of her baby as a prince, her little boy was too small for that. Such a precious babe didn't deserve that burden at birth. And then, she thought, _if Robb is King, what does that make me?_

* * *

><p><em>Our boy is so handsome, Robb. If only you could be here to see him. He doesn't cry often and is simply the sweetest thing. I am so in love with him. I know that if you could see him, you would be, too. Oh, and he looks just like you– everyone says so. He's got your hair, definitely, and your features are reflected in his face. He is strong, and healthy. He has the perfect little feet, and just this morning, he grabbed onto my finger and held so tight I couldn't believe it. And, Robb, I could go on for days about him. I love him so much. He's absolutely perfect.<em>

_ Give your mother my regards. Perhaps, if she is not busy, she can come North for a while and see him. I know she would love him as much as we do. And the girls, when they get home, they'll be excited to see him, I'm sure. I can already imagine Arya teaching him to swing a sword, or shoot a bow. Rickon can't wait for him to be bigger, to teach him how to play._

_ Stay safe while you're away, love. Godspeed and bring the family home so they may see the baby. He deserves to know his family, and we all deserve to be together at home again. I pray every day that the gods see you safely through your battles. _

_ All my love,_

_ Ella_

Robb folded the letter, setting it gently on the table before him. The troops had set camp for the night, and he was alone. Theon was busy preparing to leave for the Iron Islands, and Catelyn left at daybreak, only an hour or so before Robb received word from Maester Luwin that Ella had the baby.

It was a thought that was still trying to settle. He had a son, waiting in Ella's arms for him back home in Winterfell. Theon had poured them both a tankard of ale in celebration, which Robb wasn't keen on so early in the morning, but he drank anyways. He couldn't find the words to express his elation– particularly because his happiness would drain away and be replaced with guilt when he remembered that he wasn't there for Ella or his son, that he didn't know how long it would be until he could be home to meet Benjen– or if he'd make it home at all.

Word had gotten out, and by midday he was being given congratulations everywhere he went. It only served to darken his mood, though, because every soldier who offered him congratulations was just another reminder of his harrowing guilt.

Ella's letter arrived around suppertime, and he'd read it and reread it until he could finally rattle his brain for a response, taking so long to write out a response that the candles were low and wax was dripping onto the table. When he sent his reply with a raven, he sat back down and reread Ella's letter one more time.

With slow movements, he stood from the table, removing the cold armor from his body and extinguishing the remaining candles. Then, curling up beneath the furs with Grey Wind at his side, he carefully placed the letter beneath his pillow.

**A/N: Hello everyone! This chapter took a bit longer than I meant for it to be written and for that I'm sorry, but it's not a month gap! Yay! The next chapter isn't written, but it has a lot of content from the show, so it should be out soon enough.**

**And it's a boy! Yay, little Benjen. And we got to see Robb in this chapter, because I thought I'd throw in something to let you all know where we are in the series so far. This is several weeks/a month or so after the last chapter, btw. I probably didn't make that apparent enough in the text. Sorry. (Guess that's what author's notes are for, huh?)**

**(I'm a bit short on time at the moment - review replies will come later. Sorry! But I've read everyone's reviews and I appreciate them so much!)**

**Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Seriously, I love you all so much. I just wanna give every one of you a big hug and some home made cookies or something. Y'all are amazing.**

**Shout out to everyone who's added this to their faves and alerts. I see you, too. And I love you.**

**Also, I thought I'd include another bonus shout out to my beta, Cas (leapylion3). Just, I dunno. I think she deserves it.**

**I hope you all enjoyed! I don't hate this chapter for once, so hopefully that was reflected in my writing. You all deserve a chapter I actually like. Thank you all so much for reading!**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	25. Twenty Five

XXV

Benjen was wrapped in cotton quilts and furs, tucked tight in his mother's arms and held close to her chest. The early morning air was icy and sharp, and Ella didn't want him catching cold. She herself was wrapped in furs, her heaviest cloak with her shawl beneath, and even still she ached to be within the walls of Winterfell again. Rodrik Cassel came trotting through the castle gates atop his horse, flanked by five or so men. Ella smiled widely, glad to see another familiar face returning home.

Robb had sent a letter a few weeks before that he was sending Rodrik Cassel to Winterfell to keep an eye on them, as well as his assurances that all was well and the Stark army persevered. Rodrik dismounted his horse and approached her.

"Milady," he greeted, bowing his head in the slightest. She smiled.

"It's good to have you home," she said, turning and motioning for them to go inside. "Robb has only told me bits of how things are on the warfront. I'm hoping to hear more details from you."

"I've not ridden all the way up here to share war stories, Milady," he laughed. She smiled, shaking the snowflakes from her shoulders once they'd slipped inside. "So that's the little prince?"

She smiled, rocking Benjen absently. "What do you think, Rodrik – honestly, tell me. How long will the war go on?"

"Well," Rodrik sighed, his merry smile slipping from his face. "It could be several weeks, or several years. It's all a matter of when the Lannisters will back down."

* * *

><p>Rickon's rock came down on the nut with a sharp crack, followed by the remains clattering over the tabletop.<p>

"It's not just thieves, Milord," the poor farmer said. _Thwack! _Ella jumped at the sound of the rock hitting the table again. "It's wolves in the mills, now. More than I ever seen. They come down in the night and they kill my sheep." _Thwack!_ "My three sons is away fighting. For your brother, Milord. They'll fight, and keep fighting, 'til they're told to go home. I've no one to man my flock now, only me." _Thwack!_ "I can't keep watch all day and all night."

Ella turned to look at Bran, who met eyes with Maester Luwin.

"We can send two orphan boys from Winterstown home with you, to help watch over your flock – if you can give them room and board."

"My wife always prayed for more children. We'll look after them. Thank you, Milord. And may the gods bless you and yours."

_Thwack!_

Ella jumped again, placing her hand over her heart. The next time Rickon brought the rock down again, Bran leaned in close.

"Stop it!" He leaned back in his seat. Ella snatched the rock away from Rickon with her free hand, hissing admonitions at him. "If that's everyone, I'm going to go for a ride before dark."

"Good," Maester Luwin sighed, gathering his things. Bran called for Hodor, and the happy halfwit stood, ready to respond to the call to action, when Rodrik Cassel came charging in.

"Lord Stark! Torrhen's Square is under siege!"

"Torrhen's Square is barely forty leagues from here," the Maester put in. "How can the Lannisters strike so far North?"

"Might be a raiding party led by the Mountain. Might be sellswords paid by Tywin Lannister." Ella felt a shiver crawl up her spine at mention of the Mountain. The Hound was huge and intimidating, and from every story she'd heard, the Mountain was twice as big.

"We have to help them!" Bran insisted.

"Well, most of the fighting men are away with Robb, but I can gather 200 decent men," Rodrik reasoned.

"Do you need so many?" Maester Luwin asked, sounding desperate.

"If we can't protect our own bannermen, why should they protect us?" Bran defended. Ella didn't miss the proud smile on Rodrik's face. "Go, Ser Rodrik. Take the men you need."

"Won't take long, Milord," Rodrik assured. "Southerners don't do well up here."

With that, he turned and left with his men in tow. Ella swallowed, wringing her hands in her lap. She stood, beckoning Rickon to come with her, and gave Maester Luwin a meaningful look before taking Rickon's hand in hers and fleeing the room.

* * *

><p>A feeling of great relief washed over Ella as she lowered the letter. Robb had won another battle, at a village in the Westerlands called Oxcross. He'd expressed great joy over having won the battle, told her that it had been an important victory and that he and his army were very pleased. A nagging worry sounded in the back of her mind – she knew that if Robb and his army were pleased, then the Lannisters and their army would be all the more furious, that they'd likely gather up their forces and return stronger. But Robb was confident – after all, he'd won every battle so far.<p>

She set the letter down on her desk, standing and moving over towards the bassinet by her bed. Benjen was awake, lying down contentedly and staring up in awe at the mobile that hung from the top of the bassinet. He was a quiet baby, only crying when hungry or wet, and never colicky. She lifted him into her arms, smiling down at him.

"Hello, sweetheart," she whispered, bouncing him softly. "Your Papa should be home soon. I hope. He'll be so glad to meet you. And you'll be glad to meet him, won't you? Yes, won't you, my lovely boy…"

She descended into coos and giggles at her boy, bringing her face close to his and brushing their noses together. And then she jumped when her door strained at his lock. She looked up in shock, as whoever was on the other side of her door began pounding frantically at the door and a familiar voice began to order her to open the door. Ella felt her heart jump in her chest. Benjen whined in her arms. She put him down gently in his bassinet, moving around the bed. She nearly reached to unlocked the door, but then she thought of the dagger that Robb kept hidden beneath the mattress should she ever need it. She slid it up her sleeve before unlocking the door.

She hardly had time to step away before the door was flung open, and Theon stepped in. She stared in confusion at him. What was he doing here, why wasn't he with Robb – and why did he have a kraken emblazoned on his armor?

"I've taken Winterfell."

"What?"

"Haven't you heard the ruckus?" His face twisted into a nasty sneer. "I've sent my men over the walls to subdue your people."

"I don't understand," she said, backing up further and subtly making sure that she could pull out her dagger should she need it. "You went South with Robb, why are you -"

"Robb sent me to Pyke," Theon explained shortly. "My father demanded I help him. You should know all about _blood before honor_."

Ah, she saw what was happening now. Perhaps she didn't understand it, but she knew. "You'll never take us."

"Bran will yield."

"He'd _never_ -"

"He _will_." Theon's tone of finality scared her. "I've already spoken to him. He will yield to keep the people of Winterfell safe. And unless you want to risk all their lives, you'll keep your pretty mouth shut and let him yield." His eyes flickered over to the bassinet by her bed, on the other side of the room. "Get dressed. Be mindful of your mouth. Bring the runt."

She felt personally offended at that. She wanted to slide her dagger from her sleeve and slash him from balls to brain. But she kept it hidden. At that, he turned and left with the two men who flanked him. The door clattered shut with such an air of inevitability that it seemed to echo in the silence. She slid the dagger from her sleeve and returned it to its place beneath the mattress.

She could hear it, now, and wondered how she couldn't feel it before – there were the cries of women and children as they were forced from their homes, the angry shouts of men being subdued. Benjen whined from his bassinet. Her heart swelled up as she gathered him into her arms. Yielding to Theon was the surest way to keep her son safe. But Winterfell was the seat of the North, and Benjen was the heir to the North, and Ella knew that they wouldn't be safe for long.

* * *

><p>"I've yielded Winterfell to Theon."<p>

"Louder. Say _Prince_ Theon."

"I've yielded Winterfell to Prince Theon."

Theon stepped forward. "You all know me," he called over the murmurs of the crowds. Whatever he was to say next was cut off by a man in the crowd.

"Aye, we know you for steaming sack of shit."

"Farlen, you be silent," Bran cut in. Theon started towards the man.

"Listen to your little lord, Farlen," he said, with just enough haughtiness that Ella wanted to punch him in the nose with all the strength she could muster. But she remained behind Bran with Benjen in her arms and her shawl drawn over her head. "He has more sense than you do!"

"All of you should do as he commands," Bran continued.

"My father has donned the ancient crown of salt and rock, and declared himself King of the Iron Islands! He claims the North as well by right of conquest. You are all his subjects -"

"Bugger that!" Farlen spoke up again, staring at Theon with disgust. "If you think you can hold the North with this -"

An Ironborn soldier came from behind and hit Farlen over the head. Ella gave a sharp intake of breath, holding her baby closer to her chest. Farlen's daughter went to her knees to help her father.

"If you serve me as loyally as you served Ned Stark, I will be as good to you as he ever was! Betray me," he warned, "and you'll wish you hadn't."

"And the Lady Stark?" another asked, pointing at Ella almost accusingly. Her head snapped up. "What has she to say of this?"

Ella looked from Theon, who stared at her with a warning clear in his eyes, to her baby, sleeping and blissfully unaware of the events around him, to the citizen who pointed at her still.

"We will yield Winterfell to the Ironborn," she agreed, swallowing the lump in her throat and attempting to keep the shake from her voice. Dismayed cries went up all around her, and if ever she felt like more of a failure of a Queen, she didn't know. Theon gave her a smug smile, before turning.

"Maester Luwin! Send a raven to Pyke informing my father of my victory here, and one to Deepwood Motte to my sister. Inform her that she's to bring 500 men to Winterfell." When Maester Luwin made no move to go, Theon turned to face him fully. "You are a Maester of the citadel, sworn to serve the Lord of Winterfell, are you not?"

"I am."

"I am the Lord of Winterfell, as Bran just informed you. _Send the ravens_."

The Maester looked in the eye, before nodding his head just slightly. "My Lord."

Ella was startled when Osha spoke up, and moved to address Theon. She felt the fire of fury and betrayal burn in her chest when the wild woman offered her services to the traitor.

"Get up," Theon spat, and pushed her roughly away. "Step aside!"

"Why?" Bran asked softly when she came near enough to hear.

"It's your dream, little lord," she responded lowly. "The ocean has come to swallow this place. I ain't lettin' it drown me."

Oh – Ella wanted to be so mad, deep in her heart of hearts she knew she should, but the first thing she could think was that perhaps now – for she had no idea what would come after this day – she might have to do unthinkable things to keep herself and her family safe. Even offering herself to Theon.

"_Greyjoy!_" a great roar came up from the gates, and Ella felt her heart drop when she saw Rodrik being led by two Ironborn into the courtyard. Theon approached him.

"We caught this one on his way back from Torrhen's Square," one of the brutes spat. "He took out two of ours before we got his sword."

"Ser Rodrik," Theon said, "it grieves me that we meet as foes."

"It grieves me that you've less honor than a back alley whore!" Rodrik barked. "You were raised here, under this roof! These people are your people -"

"They are _not_ my people," Theon said sharply.

"King Robb thought of you as a brother!"

"My brothers are dead. They died fighting Stark men – men like you!"

The conversation continued in lower tones, ones Ella couldn't hear. She felt sick to her stomach, holding Benjen close to her heart and shuffling nearer to Bran and Maester Luwin.

"You've served this house faithfully, old man," Theon began in a warning tone. "But keep talking, and I'll -"

He went silent when Rodrik spit in his face. The Ironborn hit Rodrik over the head and wrestled him to the ground as Theon recoiled.

"Take him to the cells! Lock him up -"

"My Prince!" an Ironborn called, one of the men who was flanking Theon earlier when he'd come to see her. He spoke to Theon in low tones, apparently trying to convince him of something. Ella felt her heart beating wildly in the silence of the courtyard.

The silence seemed to last a million years, and then Theon's voice came crashing down. "Ser Rodrik, I sentence you to death!"

"_No_!" Bran cried. Maester Luwin immediately moved away from them and began to approach Theon. Ella felt as if her heart had disappeared from her chest, her arms and legs set trembling. "You said no harm would come to them if I yielded!"

"The old man wouldn't keep his mouth shut," Theon defended harshly. Luwin had reached him, now, and was trying to make him see reason – but there was no changing Theon's mind. It had been made. Rickon turned to her, tugging at her gown and staring up at her with fear in his eyes. She pulled him close to her side, attempting to sooth him as best she could. But, in truth, she could only bring him so much comfort when she herself was so scared she could hardly speak.

"Theon, see reason!" she called, voice thick with pain, but it went unheard.

The Ironborn brutes began to force Rickon to the center of the courtyard. Rickon cried out but Osha pulled him back, keeping him firm between her and Ella. Bran was begging, pleading with Theon with despair in his voice. Luwin returned to them, pulling Rickon close to his side.

"Theon, you gave your word!" Ella cried, reaching for Bran and urging him to close his eyes. "Bran, please -"

"Stop! Stop right now!" She squeezed his hand tighter but it only seemed to fuel his desperation, as he called out fervently for Theon to stay his blade, to stop the madness.

"You don't give commands anymore, little lord," Theon called, looking up briefly to meet their eyes as his sword hung inches above Rodrik's neck.

"Hush now, child." Rodrik's voice cut through Bran's pleas and effectively silenced him. Even on his knees with a sword at his neck, the old soldier's voice was calm and resolute, and without a trace of fear. "I'm off to see your father."

"Bran, look away," Ella pleaded, tugging on his hand.

"You said no harm would come!" Bran's voice broke. "You said no harm would come! Theon, _please_! Theon, please don't!"

"Do something," she heard Rickon whine, his face buried in the Maester's side. Ella's cheeks were wet. She tugged on Bran's hand again.

"Look away," she begged. "Bran – please."

"I'll do anything, please – no please stop it - !" But Bran's cry came even as Theon lowered his sword upon Rodrik's neck. If Ella had wanted to close her eyes, she couldn't now, and even if she could, the image of Theon's sword slicing through Rodrik's neck was forever in her mind. And then there was Bran's cry of anguish, like Theon's sword had pierced him as well. Ella felt a terrible scream leave her throat, felt herself pull Benjen and Bran closer, trying to step back and disappear in the crowd behind them.

There was the vile crunch of bone – but that was not enough. She watched as Theon hacked at Rodrik's corpse, sick with anger and desperate to remove head from neck. Blood spattered, mixed with the rain and the mud on the ground. And then Theon lifted himself on one foot and kicked Rodrik's head from his body.

And then after, there was only the sound of rain and muffled sobs. Benjen was squirming and whining in her arms. She held him tighter against her chest, pulled her shawl closer to him to keep him dry, even as the rain soaked her to the bone. She took a shaky step forward and wrapped her free arm around Bran, pulling him close and burying her face in his shoulder as he hid his face in hers. She wondered how everything had gone wrong - how she, the Queen, had become a prisoner in her own castle.

**Hello friends! Just as a note before I get to the important stuff, this is an un-beta'd version of the chapter. My beta doesn't seem to have been online lately, so I decided to put up the chapter anyways in her absence. Hopefully she's alright!**

**Huge thanks to everyone who's reviewed and fave'd and added this story to their alerts! You all mean so much to me and your support keeps me writing!**

**So my new goal is to try and finish this story before the end of the year! I'm estimating something around 42 chapters, so I'm about halfway there. Now, of course, this is just something that I _want_ to do, so I don't make any promises on whether or not chapters will be quicker.**

**Again, huge thanks to all of my wonderful lovely readers and reviewers. Seriously, your reviews are what continue to bring me back to this. **

**So much love! **

**Until next time,**

**Rex**


	26. Twenty Six

**I'm so sorry that this has taken so long to be updated. Life changed and got busy and weird and it's summer and I've just written three chapters in under a day, so I don't really know what to say. This fic is _not_ abandoned, but I cannot promise regular updates. I will write my little tush off and get out as many chapters as I can before I fall off the wagon again. Sorry again for the wait, everyone. I love you all.**

**(This chapter isn't beta'd. I doubt any forthcoming chapters will be. Sorry about any spelling/grammatical errors!)**

XXVI

_Robb,_

_Torrhen's Square has come under siege. Rodrik has gathered two-hundred men to march South and root the invaders from the keep. I'm sure that by the time this message finds you, all will be well. I only write you to assure you that we are fine. I suppose, I also write because I miss you. I just wanted you to know. I miss you and I love you and every morning and every evening I pray for you and your mother and your sisters. We here are happy and wanting for nothing but your return. Worry not. _

_All my love,_

_Ella_

Robb's hand twitched. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that just because there was no word of his family, that didn't mean that they were dead. He was still shaking, adrenaline coursing through his veins from his outburst moments before.

_How can I call myself King if I can't even hold my own castle?_ How could he do anything at all until he knew the fate of his brothers, his wife, his son? His best advisors urged him to continue moving South, and he was torn. Should he not go back North to assure the safety of his family and land? Should he not make sure that when he went South and got Sansa and Arya, that Winterfell was still there for all of them to come home to? What was the point of all this if they had nothing in the North to return to?

Guilt festered in his stomach and he felt like he was going to vomit. Underneath it all, beyond all of the indecision and uncertainty, there was still the horrible truth that this was _all his fault_. He never should have sent Theon to Pyke, he should have heeded his mother's warning and never let his trust fall in the Greyjoys' hands. And then there was the horrible question of _why_. They were brothers, Theon had sworn it – now and always.

Rage replaced the guilt in seconds. He wanted to march North and take Theon's head himself. Regardless of all that past – he felt a thirst for blood in him like no other. But he tempered his thoughts quickly. Bolton said that he'd send his bastard to purge the Greyjoys from the North, and Robb trusted him (warily, though – he wasn't sure who to trust anymore.) He wished more than anything that he had his mother here to comfort him _– gods be good_, he thought, _how must she feel right now?_ – and provide him counsel, but she was away still in King Renly's camp negotiating an alliance. He felt sorrow like a stab of pain in his heart when he imagined her receiving the news, all alone with no family to comfort her. His heart clenched, wondering if she felt anything like he felt when she received word. Lord Bolton had approached him while he was talking with Talisa, had reported that there was news from Winterfell in such a grave voice that he thought his chest would burst from fear. Robb shook his head.

He looked down at the letter clasped in his hand, swallowing thickly. Ella and the boys were alright, they had to be. He couldn't afford to think anything different.

* * *

><p>"<em>Shh<em>."

Benjen whined lowly and Ella froze. _Not now,_ she thought_. Please, sweet boy, be calm_. Osha seemed so sure that her plan would work, and Ella definitely hoped so. Winterfell was no longer safe for any of them. A high whistle cut through the air – their cue. Rickon had Shaggydog at his side, and Summer trotted along beside Hodor, Bran in his arms. Osha put her arm around Ella, leading them all out and away from Winterfell.

They escaped from their home under the cover of the darkness of night. Ella had scarcely been out of Winterfell and had no idea where Osha was leading them, but the wildling seemed sure that she was taking them somewhere safe. Osha had cared for Bran and Rickon for months and Ella trusted her, and she knew that if that trust was ever betrayed, that Summer and Shaggydog would be more than able to take care of her.

They hid down in the hay bales of a farm close by. Osha had them wade through streams to lose their scents, but they were warm huddled close together in the pile of hay bales. Ella kept Benjen pressed close to the front of her chest, worried that he might get too cold in the night. But he had his father's blood in him, the blood of the North, and Robb hardly ever seemed bothered by the cold, so she hoped that Benjen would be alright.

Ella could hardly sleep that night. Whenever she dozed off, she jolted awake soon after, worried that the next time she opened her eyes, it would be to see the faces of Theon and his men come to kill them. And she had no doubts that they would kill them. She didn't know why they were even alive – Theon didn't seem to have any intention to ransom them, and all of his men wanted them dead. Her best guess that that Theon didn't have it in him. For all his haughtiness and '_Prince Theon'_ business, he couldn't kill them. They were the best thing he had to a family, and even when his loyalties turned, he could not see them dead.

But she knew Theon well enough to figure that since they escaped, his heart would change, and if they were caught, they would die. She had no doubt in her mind. And Bran, and Rickon, and Benjen…the boys were all too young to die. Ella supposed, in the back of her mind, that she was, too, but she would much rather die than see the boys dead. But Osha was going to keep them alive. She was going to keep them hidden from the Ironborn. And even if the Ironborn did find them, then perhaps Shaggydog and Summer would put up enough of a fight for them to get away.

Ella didn't know how Osha could tell time out here, but she roused them all in the early morning.

"Daybreak is in an hour," she said, voice hushed. "And them Ironborn is going to be looking for us. We'll head back to Winterfell, and when they're gone looking, we'll sneak back in."

"And do what?" Ella asked, worried. "When they return they'll only find us again." _And kill us_, she wanted to add, but didn't want to scare Rickon.

"We'll hide down in the crypts," Osha replied. She seemed to have everything planned out. Ella figured that she probably had a lot of experience hiding. It was the best thing they had, since otherwise here in the hay bale they were no better than sitting ducks. So an hour before daybreak, they picked up from the farm and began back to Winterfell along the same path they came, even wading through the river again.

Osha found a nook where they could hide until the Ironborn left. It was uncomfortable, but Ella was loathe to move, sure that the Ironborn had vigilant eyes everywhere. Two hours they'd been hidden in the damp cranny before the Ironborn all came thundering out of the gates atop horses, yelling and urging on their searching dogs. When they were away, Osha urged them in, leading the way again. She kept a vigilant eye for any ironborn who would stop them, but it almost seemed as if Winterfell was empty except for them. Regardless, she kept her dagger tight in her hand as she led them to the crypts.

They went all the way as far back as the crypts would go, in the darkest, dampest corner, huddled behind the grave of Lyanna Stark. Ella sat in the corner with Benjen against her chest and the boys at her sides, Shaggydog and Summer draping their bodies over all their laps to keep them warm. Osha and Hodor sat across from them all quietly.

Sometime later, Rickon grew hungry and began to complain. Ella and Bran were hungry, too, and so Osha told them all to stay quiet and stay put as she went above to find them food. Such as it was for several days – or that is what Ella, in the flickering flame light of the crypts, thought it must have been – they huddled together in the crypts with little more to do than to sleep and eat and drink the food and water that Osha stole for them.

Not too long after they began to hide down in the crypts, Osha returned one day with Maester Luwin in tow. He smiled in relief at the sight of them all, his face bright with joy.

"I was so sure you all were dead," he said, and elaborated no further when Rickon scrambled up to hug him. They sat and made idle talk for a long while, and Ella was sure he was not telling her the whole truth whenever she asked how things were above. Rickon had fallen asleep soon, curled up between Hodor and Shaggydog. Osha stood with Maester Luwin in the corridor of the crypt, talking in hushed voices, for she was sure they thought that she and Bran was asleep, too.

"Got as far as the farm, and then doubled back," she said, lighting another candle in their dark corner. "Walked through the stream to throw off the hounds. Hoped this would be the last place they'd think to look."

"You're right," the Maester chuckled, "So far."

"Who was that out there? Hung up at the gates?"

"Must've been the farmer's boys, and his wife," the Maester said, lowering his voice significantly.

"He killed them?" Osha asked in surprise. Ella looked down at the sleeping face in her arms with sorrow in her heart. "And passed them off as the little lords?"

The Maester shushed her. "They mustn't know," he told her, voice thick with grief. "Bran would blame himself."

"They'll never hear it from me," Osha promised. "The little lads have suffered enough."

Their conversation continued quietly. Ella reached out to brush the hair away from Bran's forehead. He met eyes with her, and she shook her head slowly. Taking a long breath, he looked down to his lap. Brushing her fingers over his cheek, Ella moved her hand down to hold his.

* * *

><p>Ella didn't know what was happening above, but it was a horrible ruckus, and it scared the boys. At first she thought that it was their salvation, Northmen come to save them, for Robb would surely send some. But as everything continued, the sounds of fighting and destruction… Maester Luwin had said that Theon had twenty men. Robb would have sent more than enough. Why, then, was this going on so long? She felt fear in her heart at the thought of more Ironborn and held the boys close.<p>

And then it was silent.

They waited out the silence, sure that there would be something more to come, but it remained. Osha beckoned them to gather their things, what little they had, and get up. She led them back to the entrance, opening the door slowly and peeking out cautiously. After a moment, something changed in her. She began to stand straight, moving out into the open.

"Osha!" Bran hissed. "What are you doing?"

But as they stepped into the light, they could see. The smoke brunt Ella's eyes, she held Benjen closer to her chest. It was destroyed. Everything was destroyed. Winterfell was in ruins. Fire and ash swept over them. Everyone was gone. Everything was gone. The wolves whined beside their masters as the group moved around silently, surveying the damage. Something, they weren't sure what, drew them all to the godswood. Perhaps they hoped that they might find solace there. They found something else entirely.

Rickon broke away from Osha, sprinting towards the broken figure that lie at the base of the heart tree. As if it hadn't all been enough, as if the sight of their home in tatters hadn't been enough to break them, the sight of Maester Luwin covered in blood was. They approached him quickly. Rickon, on his knees, began to cry. Maester Luwin, with pain in his eyes, greeted them all with a smile.

Tears rose to Ella's eyes as she sat before the Maester, a great lump in her throat made her feel like she was suffocating.

"Tell us what medicine to get from your chambers," Bran said solemnly. Rickon spoke with more passion.

"We'll make you better!"

"I feel just fine," the Maester said softly.

"They burned it down." Anger was plain in Bran's voice. "They burned everything."

"Not everything. Not _you_." He looked between them all. "But they may come back, you have to go. Put on your warmest clothes, pack as much food as you can carry and go north."

"North's the wrong way," said Osha, standing over them. "Their mother and brother are south."

"We don't know where," Luwin replied. Ella's heart wrenched. She yearned to be back with Robb again, to feel the comfort that Catelyn brought her. Maester Luwin spoke to Bran: "There are too many enemies in the south. Go to the Wall, to Jon. He'll look after you and let your mother know you're safe."

"I don't want to leave you." Bran twined his hand in Maester Luwin's.

"No more than I want to leave you. I pulled you into this world. Both of you, and the babe. And I've seen all your faces almost every day since, and for that I consider myself very, very lucky. Go, now, with Hodor. Go on. I'll be right here."

The boys stood and began away with Hodor, but Ella remained.

"I can't leave you to die out here," she said softly, voice thick with tears. Maester Luwin gave her a sweet look.

"I can promise you, dear girl, I would rather die nowhere else. In the godswood, I am at peace." He gave her hand a brief squeeze. "Now go."

She nodded, standing reluctantly and making to follow the boys. As she turned, she heard Luwin beckon Osha closer. She left them to their conversation as she left. When she reached the gates of the godswood, she paused, and when she turned back, she saw Osha with her dagger unsheathed. A low sob left her, then, and she turned away before she could see what came next.

She went up solemnly to her chambers, climbing over charred wreckage. Winterfell was silent. Everything was empty. Ella didn't know where everyone was. Did she want to? Analysa, when was the last time she had seen Analysa? She shook the thought from her head and continued on.

The room was almost completely untouched. Some of her things had been taken, nice jewelry that had been gifts, but everything else remained. She set Benjen in his cold bassinet, stripping the grimy clothes from her body and casting it aside. There was still water in her wash basin, freezing though it was, and she splashed it over her hands and face before turning back to her wardrobe. She pulled on a thick woolen dress, tying her heaviest cloak over her shoulders. Next she put on two pairs of stockings under her boots, then took her next warmest dress and, with the dagger from under the mattress, she cut it up into swaddling for Benjen. She took her other cloak from the wardrobe, her favorite one with the nice design, and cut it into a makeshift sling to hold the babe.

When she was done, she stood up straight and looked around the room. There were books on the desks, as well as her paints, but she had no use of those now. They were going north, to the Wall. It would be nice to see Jon again, she supposed. They hadn't been very close of friends when she left, but he was family, and she yearned to see a familiar face that didn't mean harm. She looked at the map spread out on the desk. She had kept it there to track Robb's whereabouts whenever he sent her letters. Last she'd known, he'd been at Oxcross. She wondered where he was now.

As she looked at the map, she saw, below them, Castle Cerwyn. She remembered that Robb had told her it was only half a day's ride away. She wondered if that meant, perhaps, that it was a full day's walk. Castle Cerwyn, she was sure, was still loyal to the Starks.

There were enemies down south, she knew – but how many thought that she was dead? How many would truly be looking for her? Going north to the Wall was a perfectly good plan, a perfectly safe plan, but something beckoned her south. It was beyond her yearning to see Robb and Catelyn again. Perhaps, if only she got to Castle Cerwyn, she could figure out a way to get to Robb.

But she didn't forget herself. She had to be quick about getting her things together so they could leave. She gathered Benjen in all his blankets and swaddling, placed him in the sling against her chest, then took the dagger from the bed and slipped it in her belt, hidden behind the folds of her cloak.

When she returned downstairs, she found Bran and Rickon with Hodor and Osha. Hodor had procured a wheelbarrow, filled with blankets for Bran to sit in. Each of them had packs with food and clothes inside. Summer and Shaggydog were sat dutifully beside their masters. Ella gave them a nod when she reached them.

"Let's go, then."

They walked in silence through the ruins of the castle, keeping their eyes down as they passed beneath the burned corpses of the farmer's family. Ella, with relief in her heart, noticed that there was no tiny body of a babe up there, and wondered what Theon used as an excuse. Probably something horrible, she figured, and decided that she didn't want to know.

When they reached the gates of Winterfell, Ella paused.

"What is it?" Osha asked, an undertone of urgency in her voice.

"You go on north," she said, making up her mind for the last time. "All of you go on."

"No!" Bran protested immediately.

"You can't stay here," Osha said.

"And I won't," Ella replied. "I'm going to go south, to Castle Cerwyn. From there, I'm going to find Robb."

"Then we're coming with you," said Bran. Ella shook her head.

"No, you and Rickon must go north. If we all go south it will be too easy for them to find us. Osha and your wolves will keep you safe."

"And who will keep you safe?" Rickon asked, tears welling in his eyes again.

"I can protect myself," she assured, and moved aside her cloak to show them the dagger.

"Do you know how to fight?" Osha asked. Ella was quiet for a moment.

"No," she replied, because it was true. She'd only ever held a sword, never used it. "But I know the fastest way to kill a man. And I know how to do it with a dagger."

Osha was quiet a moment, before giving Ella a sad smile. "Then go, and take good care of that babe of yours."

Ella nodded her thanks. She kneeled before the boys, pulling Rickon into her arms, and then Bran. "Keep each other safe. I love you."

"We love you too," cried Rickon. She had to peel his hands from her dress, kissing each one before letting them go.

"I trust you to protect them as best you can." Osha nodded. Ella turned to Hodor, giving him a smile. "And you, sweet man. Thank you."

She gave the boys each a kiss before turning away from them, beginning down the road south.

* * *

><p><strong>Lots of love to everybody who reviewed in my absence. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. It feels good to be back! As of this update, I have the following two chapters written. Hopefully I'll be writing throughout the weekend (that's certainly what I intend to do) and getting out as many chapters as I can. I make no promises on how many chapters I'll get out, and I can't promise that I won't disappear again for months, but this story is not abandoned and I will finish it if it's the last thing I do.<strong>

**Now, in notes pertaining to the actual plot of the story, this is where things start to become AU. As such, I'll also be messing with the timeline of things _juuust_ slightly. It's subtle now, but it will become more apparent in later chapters.**

**The next chapter will be up in about a week! I want to space out the chapters a bit to give myself time to write, but chapters 27 and 28 are pretty much done. Wish me luck writing everything else.**

**I hope you all enjoyed. I appreciate all of your support so much. **

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	27. Twenty Seven

Part Three

XXVII

_The woods are lovely, dark and deep,  
><em>_But I have promises to keep,  
><em>_And miles to go before I sleep,  
><em>_And miles to go before I sleep._

_- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost_

She reached Castle Cerwyn just in time as night fell over the land. She kept her head down, but no one seemed all too suspicious of her. But she was suspicious of everyone else. The darker the night got, the more paranoid she felt, like anyone who glanced at her knew who she was. She was shaking like a leaf, both from the cold and from fear. She knew in the back of her mind that it was mostly unfounded, that not only were the Cerwyns still loyal to the Starks, but that to anyone else, she seemed merely like a mother and her child passing through.

Once Ella found herself in Castle Cerwyn, she wasn't sure what to do next. Did she march straight into the castle and tell them that she was Queen and she needed help? Or would that only make things worse? A gentle hand touched her shoulder and she jumped, hand shooting to the dagger hidden behind her cloak as she turned to face the person who'd touched her.

"I'm sorry," the man said, retracting his hand immediately. The man was taller than her, dressed in armor with a sword at his side, but he had a kind face. "I didn't mean to startle you."

With caution, Ella moved her hand away from her dagger, but she took a step back, wrapping her arms around Benjen.

"You looked scared. Are you alright?" the man asked, and she could hear compassion in his voice. She eyed him up and down. He was good-looking, somewhat young. "Do you need help?"

"W-who are your loyalties to?" she asked, voice shaking. It was perhaps the riskiest question there was, but she had the dagger hidden in her dress and if she needed to, she could delay the man just long enough to get away.

The man seemed confused at her question. "King Robb," he responded slowly, and she realized that her question had made him wary.

So he was safe, then, or at least safer than a Greyjoy soldier. "Are you going to his camp?" she asked.

"I am."

"Then you can help me. I need to go to the King's camp."

"What might await you there?" he asked.

"My husband. He fights for the North."

"A war camp is no place for a babe - " he began, motioning to the bundle pressed to her chest, and she jerked back.

"The Ironborn sacked Winterfell." There was a shake in her voice. "You can see the smoke from here. I only just escaped. My husband is in the King's camp, and he's all I have left."

"What's your name?"

Should she lie? "Ella."

The knight nodded. "I know a man in Moat Cailin who owes me a debt. We will fetch you a horse there, but until then, we'll have to share. Come along, Ella." He held his hand out to her, clambering to his feet, and with little hesitance she took it, shifting Benjen in her arms as she stood.

He led her to his horse, offered to hold Benjen as she mounted but she refused to let him go, so he only helped as they mounted.

"Thank you," she said, breathless with relief, "thank you so much."

"If I can help, ma'am."

"May I…" she trailed off. _Why am I pausing? He knows my name, and it is only right that I may know his._ "May I know your name?"

"Donnel," he introduced, "Ser Donnel Locke."

* * *

><p>It was only dusk, so Donnel had them travel along the road a little longer before they stopped. He pitched a tent, told her that she could sleep inside with Benjen while he slept outside by the fire, and she thanked him sincerely. They sat down by the fire on opposite sides, roasting a pigeon and some corn over the fire.<p>

"So, your name is Ella. Ella…?"

She thought of the first surname she could. "Snow," she replied. He nodded his head and asked no further questions. Instead, he began to talk about himself.

"I went to Winterfell when King Robb called the banners," he said. "And I fought alongside him until the Battle of the Green Trident."

"What happened then?" she asked.

"I was captured by Lannisters, along with Lord Cerwyn. We were traded back, but I accompanied Lord Cerwyn back to his home. He's injured, badly. I'm not sure that he will last the night, but we will see, I suppose."

Ella made a quiet noise of sadness. So many people had died lately, it seemed. The passing of Maester Luwin that morning made her heart feel hollow. And everyone else in Winterfell that she had met, they were all gone too. Donnel seemed to understand her sadness, and he changed the subject to something else.

"Your little one, how old is he?" he asked kindly. She smiled, rocking the babe against her breast. He was asleep, swaddled warm and full from suckling.

"Five months."

Donnel smiled sweetly. "He is still a small one yet."

"He is big, though. Strong."

She looked down at her baby, her sweet boy, peaceful in his sleep. He didn't cry or whine often, only when he needed something. Before all this happened, before Ella felt that her arms were the only place he was safe, Benjen liked to lie on his back and kick and stretch his legs, or to lie on his stomach and lift his head to look all around him. He was just beginning to sit up on his own.

The light fuzz of hair on his head had grown longer, if only slightly. It was darker red now, closer to Robb's own, and was just beginning to curl at the ends. He resembled Robb in feature, too, but he had Ella's eyes. When Benjen was born, his eyes were bright blue, and Ella was sure that he would take after Robb in every way, but as he grew older and the weeks passed, his eyes changed and became hazel green like hers.

That night, Donnel spread out his bedspread beside the dying fire and bid her goodnight as she entered the tent. She curled up beside Benjen in the warmth of the tent, praying to the gods that Donnel was an honorable man and would not try to take advantage of her in the night.

When morning came, she was roused by Donnel calling for her from outside the tent.

"Are you awake?" he asked, and she peeked her head out. "We should head out soon if we want to make good time for Moat Cailin."

She nodded, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. He had made food so she could break her fast, and then began to pack up camp, steadfastly looking away to give her privacy as she suckled Benjen. They shared a horse again today, but Donnel kept as much distance as he could to make her comfortable. The ride to Moat Cailin was long and tiring, but she and Donnel made quiet conversation, and by the time they reached Moat Cailin early the next morning, Ella could call him a tentative friend.

But they couldn't stay in Moat Cailin long. The town was overrun with Greyjoy soldiers, and they held no love for anyone loyal to the Starks. They kept their heads down, meeting quickly and discreetly with the man who owed Donnel a debt, and then hurrying away from that place before the Ironborn realized who they were.

The trip was much easier made on two horses. They still kept their companionable conversation between them, but Ella felt more comfortable when she and Benjen were on their own horse. She felt quite sure that Donnel was a man of honor, to be trusted, for he always allowed her the tent and slept outside by the fire, and when they rented a room at an inn he allowed her the bed and slept on the floor, and he'd always given her privacy when she needed it. But Ella had trusted Theon, too, thought him to be a man of honor – perhaps not a man of outstanding honor, but honor nonetheless – and he'd betrayed them quickly and without mercy

Ella spent the quiet moments of the trip thinking of her family. She wondered, most of all, where Bran and Rickon were, if they were keeping warm, if Osha and their dire wolves were keeping them safe. She wondered if they'd reached the Wall by now, if they were sat with Jon wondering where she was. She felt bad for abandoning them, for leaving them on their own to go north. But she felt a responsibility to go south and find Robb. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was beyond her desire to see him again. It was a duty she had, she was sure of that.

Though they spent most of their time on horseback, trying to make good time getting south to the camp, Donnel was very willing to allow them breaks, where they could rest and stretch their legs. The weather warmed, if only slightly, when they passed the Neck. When the day was sunny and the breeze was nice, Ella set down her cloak on the grass and allowed Benjen to stretch his little limbs. She would sit beside him and talk softly to him, and he would mumble and babble at her in response. Oftentimes she would pick flowers or blades of grass and run them over his cheeks or the bottoms of his feet, just to delight in his laugh and sweet smile.

Donnel sat with them. His conversations with Ella usually consisted of discussing their trip south, how much longer they had and where he had heard the camp was last, but they occasionally discussed their lives. Donnel spoke much more freely of his personal life than Ella did of hers. He told her of his family, his upbringing in Oldcastle, how he had decided to become a knight. All Ella ever told him was that she grew up by the sea, and then moved to Winterfell and married her husband, whom she loved very much. Donnel never asked her to elaborate, and for that she was thankful. He took her at her face value and was never suspicious of her. She was guilty for lying, but never once regretted not telling him the truth. After all, if she wanted to survive long enough to get to Robb, she was sure she had to be prepared to take much more drastic measures.

* * *

><p>When Catelyn entered the tent, Robb was sat at a table drinking wine, but he was not alone. Across from him was sat a young woman with dark hair. They were startled when Catelyn entered, pausing their conversation and turning to face her. Robb blinked up at her a moment, before a grin broke out on his face and he stood to embrace her.<p>

"Mother!" he greeted, surprise evident in his voice. Catelyn smiled in return, hugging him tightly, before pulling back and sending a pointed look at the woman sat at the table. Robb caught this look, turning.

"Ah, Mother, this is Lady Talisa. She's been helping with the wounded, she's been very…helpful."

Catelyn very briefly rose an eyebrow at her son, before turning to greet the woman with a kind, if not weary smile. "Lady Talisa," she nodded, and her voice sounded tired.

"Lady Stark," Talisa greeted, standing.

"Lady Talisa…?"

"Maegyr," she finished.

"Maegyr? Forgive me, I do not know this name."

"An uncommon name here, an old name in Volantis," she explained. Catelyn seemed to grow quickly tired of the pleasantries, and Talisa caught on to that quickly. She excused herself from the tent, brushing past Robb and Catelyn and leaving. When she was gone, Catelyn let out a long breath, settling herself down slowly at the table. Robb poured her a goblet of wine before sitting down across from her.

"No official alliance has been made," she said, taking a sip of the wine. "Renly asked me to bring you his terms."

"And they are?"

"He will help us, as long as we swear fealty to him."

Robb's brow furrowed, and he shook his head. His fist clenched on the table. "I'm done with following the orders of southerners, and my men are as well. We cannot accept these terms."

"Then perhaps we can negotiate them," Catelyn said, "but you'll have a hard time convincing Renly. I've made it clear to him that you have no interest whatsoever in the Iron Throne, but he won't take lightly losing all of the North. And with most of the Riverlands declared for you, that's more land he's losing. He won't like it."

"He won't like losing these lands any more than they'll like swearing fealty to him." He was quiet for a moment, turning over different solutions in his head. It occurred to him backing out of alliance negotiations, but he couldn't afford to do that. They had return victorious from every battle so far, but victory in the war was still out of their hands, especially now with the Ironborn sacking Winterfell. They needed Renly's alliance if they had any hope of winning. He rubbed a hand across his forehead, shifting in his seat. "I'll draw up different terms. Perhaps we can think of something he'll agree to. We might sorely need those men, soon."

"What do you mean?"

Robb blew out a long breath. "Walder Frey is angry."

"Why?" Catelyn asked sharply.

"He was promised Bran and Arya. And now they're gone." Lost, dead, he didn't know which. He didn't want to think about it.

Cat was at a loss for words, sitting down and shaking her head. "What, as if that is somehow our fault? Our fault that the children are lost?"

"You think that matters to him?" Robb shook his head, too. "He was promised two marriages. And now there won't be any at all. He's threatening to pull his troops."

"Figure something out, then," Catelyn said, distraught. "Another marriage. To Edmure, to the Blackfish, anyone. We _need_ his men."

"I will try," Robb said, the weight of his decisions heavy in his voice. His shoulders slumped and he looked down at the coarse wood of the table. Catelyn stood, moving around the table to place an arm around her son. She pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his temple.

"I know," she said softly, with a mother's comfort. "I know it's hard. But we need to do all we can to get the girls and go home."

"There's no home left to go to," he muttered.

"When we have the resources, we'll send men north to root the Ironborn from our home, and men to rebuild it. Winterfell is not lost to us yet."

"Will you talk to Edmure, please? I can figure out the terms for Renly. But explain to Edmure, and contact Lord Frey."

"I will," she promised. She ran a hand through his hair, fingers tangling in his curls. "I will."

* * *

><p><strong>So here we are, at the beginning of the third - and last - part to our story. Current planning estimates 41 chapters, and to be frank, I don't think that there will be much more chapter rearranging at this point. At the time of this update, I'm about halfway through writing chapter 31. I think I can stamp out ten more chapters this summer. That'll be my goal. (But no promises. Never promises, I'm afraid.)<strong>

**Ser Donnel Locke is _not_ mine - he is the creation of one Mr. George R. R. Martin, the only thing I can lay claim to is his personality and appearance as they stand in this fic. Ser Donnel, in the books, doesn't get traded back, and if memory serves, he gets freed when Jaqen frees everyone else. But like I said, this fic has entered the AU portion of things, so if things don't match up, it's probably deliberate.**

**Thank you lovely friends for reviewing! All of your continued support means so much to me. **

**Until next time,**

**Rex**


	28. Twenty Eight

XXVIII

She was awoken, terrified, in the middle of the night. Donnel shook her awake, shushing her quietly once her eyes were open. She could hardly see anything; the fire outside their tent must have been stomped out. She lifted herself onto her elbows to see that Donnel had his sword unsheathed. A shiver of fear ran through her.

"Stay very quiet," he warned, a finger still over his mouth in a warning. "I think there are bandits just over the hill. You have a dagger?"

She nodded, feeling as if her tongue was frozen from shock. Her heart thumped heavy in her chest. She felt like it was so loud that the bandits over the ridge might hear it. That must have been why Donnel stomped out their fire, but she hadn't any idea what good it might do. It wasn't as if they could pack up their camp and leave before the bandits stumbled across their path in the moonlight.

"Hold close to your babe. If anyone comes our way, I'll take care of them best I can, but keep one hand on your dagger."

He exited the little tent and Ella was left in darkness. She couldn't see anything, but she could hear everything that was going on around her. There was the gentle crunch of footsteps, light and cautious and she knew they were Donnel's. The breeze brushed through the leaves, owls hooted quietly in the night.

And then, so quietly she wasn't sure if her mind was making it up, she heard a second pair of footsteps. Her heart seemed to drop into her stomach then. She held Benjen close to her chest against her rapidly beating heart, reaching with a trembling hand for the dagger she kept. Someone was here, she knew it. There was the shrill sound of a sword being unsheathed and then grunts and clangs and the sounds of a scuffle outside. There were several voices, only one of them Donnel's, and she felt overcome with fear. Donnel, strong knight though he was, was lanky and slight and she wasn't sure he could take on more than one man at once. She knew she certainly couldn't.

There were several thumps like bodies hitting the ground. Ella wasn't sure she'd ever been this afraid before, not even hidden in the depths of the crypts beneath Winterfell. After several moments, all went quiet. All she could hear was a ragged breath cutting harshly through the night. There was no movement.

"Ella! Ella!" the voice that called for her was weak and strained. And it was Donnel. She started, scrambling up with Benjen in one arm and her dagger in her hand. She slipped out of the tent, looking out into the night. In the light of the moon, she could see several bodies on the ground a few paces away from where they'd made camp. She could just barely make out Donnel's orange curls and hurried to him.

He was hurt, holding a wound on his side. It was bleeding, though not profusely. Casting her dagger aside, she took some of Benjen's swaddling, pressing it against his wound.

"Are you okay?" she asked in a breath of fear. Donnel was breathing raggedly, but he didn't seem to be dying.

"I will be," he promised, and placed his hand over hers on the wound. She instructed him to hold the cloth against his wound and promised she'd be back, taking her dagger and Benjen back to the tent before returning to him. On his good side, she placed his arm over her shoulder and led him back to their camp, pulling him inside the tent despite his protests.

"It's too dark to ride out now," she said, "but I don't know how to help you. Where's the nearest town from here?"

"From here?" Donnel's voice was tight with pain. Ella adjusted him in her bedroll to make him comfortable. "Seagard shouldn't be too far off."

A familiar place. For the first time since she'd met Donnel, Ella felt truly hopeful. Donnel had promised to return her to Robb in the camp, but their trip had been so long. Every day, though they grew closer and closer, Robb seemed to be farther and farther away. But her uncle Jason was Lord of Seagard and he would help her, unless he was off fighting with Robb. If he was away, she was sure that he would have taken his son Patrek with him. He had no wife and would have left his castle in the hands of a trusted steward, who Ella was sure would help her if she explained herself.

She smiled down at Donnel, taking his hands and given them a reassuring squeeze. "At morning's first light we'll make for Seagard and you'll get help."

Donnel gazed up at her with a gentle look. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand softly, before smiling.

* * *

><p>Seagard was half a day's ride from where they were. Donnel was well enough to ride on his own. The bleeding had quelled with help from the cloth, and he helped Ella to mount her horse like usual. Ella had been to Seagard several times when she was younger to visit her uncle and cousin, but she had never approached it from this direction. Coldocean Cove was across Ironborn's Bay, and they needed only follow the waterline around until they reached Seagard.<p>

But there was something Ella had to do before they arrived. When the castle first came in their sights, Ella turned to Donnel. He was in pain still, but much better than he'd been during the night. When she refused to go forward, worry overcame him.

"What is it?" he asked softly, brow creased. "What's the matter?"

"I have something to tell you," she said quietly. He wouldn't possibly react badly, would he? Donnel nodded his head towards her, beckoning for her to go on. "I'm afraid I haven't been wholly honest with you. I'm sorry."

"What do you mean?" Donnel was wary, she could hear it in his voice.

"My name is Ella Stark. My husband fighting in the south – my husband Robb."

Donnel's eyes were wide as he looked her up and down. She shook his head slowly. "I don't believe it…"

"After Winterfell was sacked, I decided to go south, to Castle Cerwyn, and find help in the hopes that someone would take me to the King's camp."

"You're the Queen?" It was the first time Ella had ever seen him look angry. "I've brought you all this way, and you were lying to me the whole time?"

"Donnel, you must understand, no one could know. If the Greyjoys had heard word that the Queen was being taken south, they'd have followed us."

"I would have fought them off -"

"Only you, Donnel? You would have fought off all the Ironborn single-handedly?"

"Do you mean to say that I couldn't?"

"I mean to say that they could have killed you and my son." Her voice was firm and left him no room to argue. When he didn't say anything, she continued in a quiet voice. "I mean I say that I couldn't take that chance. Come now, Donnel. Let's go on."

"I could hardly believe it," Jason breathed, and held Ella close. She was his only niece and very precious to him, the picture of her mother, his sister. "When I'd heard that Winterfell was attacked by Ironborn, I was furious. Patrek and I accompanied Theon here, we saw his ship safely launched from our docks. I knew it was no good to be sending him off back to that wretched family of his, but it was King Robb's command. I was so worried something horrible had happened to you, that I would never see you again." He pulled back from her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And now look at you, a woman grown."

She smiled up at her uncle. "I've been very lucky. Our servant hid us in the crypts of Winterfell and kept us safe. When I went south to Castle Cerwyn, I met Ser Donnel."

Jason looked over at the humble knight. "Thank you for protecting my niece. You have done our family a great service."

"I only did what was best," said Donnel, shaking his head.

"Go to the Maester and he will help you. I will have my servants set you up in our best quarters. After all, she is Queen in the North now, isn't that right? King Robb would want no less for the man who saved our dear Queen."

Donnel nodded and headed off. Jason placed an arm around Ella's shoulders. She bounced Benjen in her arms.

"No one has heard a word of you or the young Princes since Winterfell was sacked," he said, voice low and grave.

"Theon slaughtered the ravens," she said. "Before he slaughtered everyone else."

"I heard that King Robb sent Bolton's men to root the Ironborn out. What happened?"

Ella's brow furrowed. "I don't know. We heard a horrible ruckus and when we came up, everything was in ruins. I…I assumed it was the Ironborn. I didn't see any sign of Bolton's men."

"Perhaps they didn't get there in time," Jason said, though there was something in his tone that suggested that he didn't quite believe that. Ella decided it was a question better asked another time. For now, she wanted to bathe and enjoy the comforts of a proper bed, neither of which she hadn't experienced since before the Ironborn came to Winterfell, several weeks before.

There was no bassinet in her room, so she made a makeshift bed of pillows and set Benjen down on it while the maids prepared her bath. When they were gone, she stripped off her heavy dress – too warm for the Riverlands – and sank down beneath the water. It felt so nice to get weeks' worth of dirt and grime off of her skin and out of her hair. When she was finished bathing, she would write to Robb. Jason said that when the Bolton men returned and reported them all missing, Robb and Catelyn had assumed the worst. He deserved to know that they were all alright.

Well, she and Benjen were. She had no idea about Bran and Rickon. They should have reached the Wall by now. Uncle Jason said that if Robb had received word about the boys, he hadn't heard of it. Ella prayed to the old gods and the new that they were safe at the Wall with Jon.

Rising from her bath, Ella wrung out her hair and donned an airy dress. It was by no means warm in the Riverlands, but the weather didn't warrant the heavy wools and furs of the North. She didn't mind the clothes of the North, but the clothes of the Riverlands were more comfortable, she thought. After giving Benjen a short bath, she settled him down to sleep and sat down at the desk with a piece of parchment and a quill in front of her.

And she had no idea what to say. She didn't want to have to take the time to explain all that had happened, though she knew that Robb deserved to know. She only wanted to send him a letter and tell him that she was alright, that they were all alright. But for some reason she couldn't find any words to say. Looking away from the parchment, she found her gaze drifting out of the window, over the ocean.

Standing, she carefully lifted Benjen from his bed and left the chambers, trailing through the winding halls until she found her way outside. It wasn't a very long walk down to the beach. She made her way to the docks, and once there, wandered away. It didn't take her long to find a secluded spot on a hill. She settled herself down with her baby in her lap, pulling off her shoes and burying her feet in the cool sand. The wind was chilly, but felt refreshing on her clean skin.

She let all thoughts leave her as she sat in the sand. This was a place of solace, where nothing from the world could bother her. There were no thoughts of Robb or the war or Bran and Rickon or where they were. Only the breeze on her skin and the sand on her feet and the rush of the waves in her ears. At some point, she leaned back to lie on the sand, Benjen asleep on her chest. The sky above was a rich blue, fading to pinks and oranges as dusk began to settle.

"I was told I might find you out here."

Usually she hated to be interrupted when she sought solace on the beach, but Donnel's voice was a pleasant surprise that, if anything, served only to calm her more. She squinted up at him, and he sat down cross-legged next to her.

"I was looking for you. You gave me a fright when you weren't in your rooms."

"I'm sorry," she responded, still looking up at the sky above her. "What did you need?"

"Only to see how you were. You seem alright now."

"I am. How is your wound?"

"The Maester bandaged it. It wasn't bad."

"I'm glad." He gaze turned from the sky to him. He wasn't looking at her, staring out over the sea. Donnel had red curly hair, but it wasn't the dark auburn like Robb had, more of a proper orange like Sansa. He was older than her, must have been somewhere in his mid- or late-twenties. The waning sunlight lit him up, and she thought for the first time that he looked quite handsome.

"It's getting dark," she said, and looked down at her to find she was already looking at him. They met eyes. "Perhaps we should go inside for dinner."

She nodded, gathering Benjen against her chest and sitting up. "Yes, let's."

He stood and offered her his hand, pulling her to his feet. She held Benjen in one arm and her boots in her free hand as they walked up to the castle in companionable silence, the sound of the waves and the breeze in the trees filling in their silence.

"Have you written King Robb yet?"

"Not yet," she said quietly. "I'm not exactly sure what to say. Getting a letter from me must be like getting a letter from a ghost."

"No, it wouldn't be like that." He sounded so sure. Ella looked up at him. "Knowing you're alive will make him happier than anything in this world."

He was right. And besides, Ella couldn't in good conscience stay here without writing Robb to explain things, or at the very least let him know that she and Benjen were okay. She smiled up at Donnel, but said nothing more to him as they made their way toward the great hall to eat.

* * *

><p>She had just released the crow into the air when the door to the Maester's chambers opened. When she turned, it was her cousin Patrek who awaited her.<p>

"_Everyone_ is waiting, Ella," he said, tapping his foot with joking impatience.

"Be mindful of your tongue," she replied, smiling. "I could have it cut out."

She looped her arm through his and they made their way to the courtyard. "You enjoy my company too much to do that."

"Just because I enjoy your presence doesn't mean that I wouldn't mind it if you shut up once in a while."

"You wound me, my Queen!" he jested with false hurt in his voice. She knocked his shoulder and they laughed.

When they arrived in the courtyard, Ella took Benjen from her uncle and with him mounted her horse, and he and Patrek bid her safe travels as the envoy left. In mere hours, they would be arriving in Coldocean Cove, and Ella would be home again for the first time in a year and a half. But it wasn't truly home to her, anymore. What she knew now to be home was lying in ruins. But Coldocean would do well enough. Her brother would be there, and her Uncle Rhys and Penelope. All the people she'd missed when she first went North. And if she couldn't see Robb, then perhaps they would be comfort enough to her until she could see him again.

Just before she left Seagard, she'd finally written to Robb. She told him everything that had happened in as much detail as she could muster, and when her story was finished, she told him that she was taking Benjen to Coldocean Cove where they could be safe and warm and happy, she told him that she would see him as soon as she could, that they would make arrangements when he responded, and last of all she told him that she loved him, and her heart ached with need to see him again. And then she sent the raven into the air, watched it fly off for a moment before it was time for her to go too.

* * *

><p><strong>Heloooooo everybody! I'm glad you're liking everything so far! Just wanted to warn you all that I'm currently stuck writing chapter 31, and have been for a while, so...yeah. I'm going to continue updating every Friday like I have been, and hopefully once it's time to upload chapter 31 I'll have figured something out, but I just wanted to prepare you all just in case. If, by the time it comes to upload chapter 31 and I haven't finished it, I don't know how long it would be until I updated again. But I promise I work my hardest and getting chapter 31 and all subsequent chapters done as soon as I can for you!<strong>

**Thank you all so much for your continued support. You all have no idea how much it means to me. I have a question for you: What are your feelings towards Donnel so far?**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	29. Twenty Nine

XXIX

How long had it been since she'd awoken to the sound of the waves against the cliffs and the seabirds at her window? When she opened her eyes to the sunlight streaming in from the balcony and through the curtains around her bed, she was sure for a moment that everything had been one vivid dream. Feeling fifteen again, she sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes and letting her surroundings sink in. She had sorely missed this bedroom, the view over the ocean and the flowers that grew on her balcony.

Crossing the room, she opened the doors to the balcony and let a cool breeze rush through. She took a long breath, taking in the scent of the sea on the wind. She was tempted to climb down the vines to the beach, until she heard a quiet whine from behind her and realized that she'd forgotten herself. Turning, she saw Benjen in his little bassinet by the crib, one which used to be hers. When she came closer she saw that he was still asleep and ran a gentle hand over his smooth cheek.

Her attention was drawn by a knock at the door. She pulled on her robe over her nightgown and called for her visitor to enter. It was only a squire boy, bringing her a letter. She thanked him with a smile like the sun and shut the door behind him. She knew immediately that it was Robb's response. It had been so long since she'd written to him – a month, actually. She hadn't written since just before the Ironborn came. She missed him more than words could describe.

His letter, like hers, was long and rambling. He told her how happy he was to hear that she and the boys were alright, how angry he was that Theon had betrayed him, and he promised her that they would have their revenge. Ella didn't care about any of that. She only cared about the parts where Robb assured her that he, too, was well, and his mother, and that the war was going well enough. He ached to see her again, he said, and told her that he loved her and Benjen, and to give Benjen a kiss for him.

Simply seeing his writing on paper again made her heart feel light. She was in such good spirits, from being home again and from writing Robb, she felt giddy like a girl again. Despite all that was going on, she felt truly hopeful for the first time since the family left Winterfell with the King.

* * *

><p>It felt so nice to lie back with the sun in her eyes and warm on her skin, with only the sound of the ocean and the gulls, occasionally interrupted by the laughs of her brother and uncle. She had been back in Coldocean Cove for two weeks, now.<p>

"He's a fine boy you have here, Ellie," Rhys said. She opened her eyes to see that Benjen was in Rhys's lap now, or what little he had left of it. Her uncle had fought bravely in Robert's rebellion, then scarcely older than she was now, and had suffered an injury so bad that his right leg had to be amputated above the knee, and he had to walk always with a crutch.

Her uncle was light haired, like the rest of the Reems brood, though his skin was tanned and freckled from time spent out in the sun. She and her brother had the Mallister look in them, dark hair and dark eyes. Her brother, too, was with them, along with his new wife. Alysanne was a kind girl, very open and welcoming, but she had not yet begotten her brother a son. By the sour look that came over her brother's face at her uncle's comment, Ella wondered if he resented his lack of progeny, but she didn't comment.

"He really is a lovely boy, Ella," said Alysanne sweetly. Ella sat up. "Isn't he, Olin?"

Her brother said nothing, only nodded and made a noise of agreement, popping a grape into his mouth.

"He really has the Tully in him, doesn't he?" Rhys asked, looking down at the babe bouncing in his lap.

"That's what everyone says, that he looks like Robb." Which made her think about something. "Why haven't you been off fighting, Olin?"

"It's not my fight," he said, and didn't look at her. Instead, his gaze was cast out over the water. "If your husband wants to be free of southern authority, so be it. I don't care either way."

"But Lord Tully has called the banners," she began. Olin stood up before she could continue.

"I think I have work up in the keep to do," he said. "If you'll excuse me."

Ella blinked up, startled, at her brother. What had gotten into him? Alysanne swallowed, looking down at her lap. "I'm sorry. He's been in such a mood lately." She rose. "Let me go speak to him. It was nice getting to know you, Ella."

And then she left as well, walking after Olin at a rapid pace. Ella watched after them for a moment, before looking to her uncle. He was watching them retreat up the beach with a grave look on his face.

"Is there something going on that I don't know about?" she asked.

Rhys shook his head. "Alysanne's right. He has a very quick temper lately, I'm not sure what it is. Alysanne seems to think it's something to do with herself, but I haven't asked."

"Why would she think it's something with her?" she asked. Rhys shrugged.

"Olin is without an heir. That's the best I can think. I don't know if she's barren or just won't put out. Not exactly something I can bring up over dinner."

Ella looked back down the beach, but Olin and Alysanne had already reached the castle and were gone. A frown tugged at her lips. Her brother had been perfectly fine until just a day or two before. "I'll talk to her about it." She shook her head. "That just doesn't seem like something that would _really_ bother him, though."

"I don't know, Ella," he said in a weary voice. "Your brother has always been beyond me, you know that. I think your mother was the only one who could really understand him when he was upset."

Ella nodded, looking down at the sand. Taking a deep breath of the cool ocean air, she let her worries rest for now, taking Benjen from Rhys's lap.

* * *

><p>The sun made her look all the more radiant, her smile bright as the sun as she looked down at the babe on her lap. After a moment, her gaze shifted to him, and he offered her a lazy smile in return to her loving look. He tucked his hands behind his heads, and his wife pushed her hair behind her ear before leaning down to kiss him.<p>

Donnel started awake.

_No,_ he thought, and scrambled to get up_. I can't think these things._ _Not about my Queen._

That was another mistake - _the_ Queen. Ella was _the_ Queen, not _his_ Queen.

And her son was definitely not his. Neither was her kiss. He jumped when a knock came at her door, and he realized that that was what had startled him awake. He called out for the person to wait and hurried to dress himself and make himself presentable. When he opened the door, it was the person he wanted to see least right now.

Ella smiled up at him brightly. "Good morning!" she chirped.

"My lady!" he said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm bored," she said, letting herself into his room and looking around. "When I was younger I always used to spend time with Penelope, but she's still in Acorn Hall with her new husband. I've not much to do now."

"Where's Benjen?"

"Oh, Alysanne wanted to be with him for the day." Sitting in an armchair in front of his fireplace, she suddenly looked up at him with wide eyes. "I'm not bothering you, am I?"

"No, not at all," he assured her quickly, and came to sit in the chair beside hers.

"I just don't feel like painting or shooting right now," she said, looking into the empty fireplace. "I suppose I just wanted company."

"Then I am glad to keep you company, Your Grace."

Ella's nose wrinkled at that. "You don't have to call me that."

"No, I do," he said, and she didn't insist. He was glad for that. Calling her by her proper title kept him from getting too familiar with her. She wasn't the sweet common woman yearning to get to her husband in the King's camp. She was the Queen and she was absolutely off-limits no matter what. Either way, whatever feelings he might have had for her were wrong. His plight to push down his feelings were helped when she began to talk about her correspondence with King Robb. He could see clearly that she was longing to see him again. A part of him wished he could fulfill his duty and bring her to his camp, if only to see the bright look that would surely light up her face upon arriving. He swallowed nervously, feeling his palms get sweaty, and when Ella gave him a smile, he returned it with dread in his gut.

* * *

><p>"Alysanne, I have to ask you a question."<p>

The two young women sat spread out on a rug before the fireplace, a fire popping and crackling in the hearth. Alysanne looked up at her goodsister sitting beside her. Ella's face looked oddly grave in the half-light of the fire. She frowned.

"What is it?"

Ella swirled her wine in her cup, resting the edge of the glass against her lip for a moment before taking a sip. "Would you have any idea as to why Olin has been acting so oddly?"

Alysanne turned her gaze away, instead looking down at her nephew asleep in her lap. "No."

"Does it…" Ella shifted on the floor, clearing her throat lightly before continuing gently, "Might it have anything to do with children?"

The younger woman kept her eyes away, though Ella could see that she was staring deeply into the fire. She didn't push Alysanne for a response, only waited for the girl to sort out her thoughts. Slowly, she began to shake her head.

"That's not it. Olin…he has no interest."

"None at all?" Ella furrowed her brow. Alysanne shrugged awkwardly.

"He used to. That's another strange thing with him lately. He comes to bed late and never touches me. He stays on the complete opposite side of the bed." Her voice began to falter. "He hardly even looks at me."

By the end, her words were hardly more than a whisper. Ella meant to say something, but Alysanne took a long breath and continued on.

"But it's not me." She turned to look at Ella and had a severe look in her eyes. "He's been writing someone, Ella. He's very sneaky about it, and whenever I ask questions he becomes angry."

"Who do you think he's writing?" she asked, interest thoroughly piqued. Alysanne shook her head.

"I haven't the slightest clue. But I don't think they're good, whoever he's talking to."

Ella had a horrible feeling in her gut, like Alysanne was absolutely right. Instead of responding, she took another sip of her wine, staring down into the blood red before gulping the rest down.

* * *

><p>Ella felt her heart break for Catelyn. News had reached them in the morning that Hoster Tully, Lord of Riverrun, had died. Ella herself felt little grief, for she had never known Lord Tully, but she knew that Catelyn was suffering, what with her family scattered all over Westeros, and that losing her father was a tough blow.<p>

Despite this, a rush of excitement went through her. As vassals of Lord Tully, House Reems was obligated to go to Riverrun for the funeral, and that meant seeing Robb again. The funeral wasn't for nearly a week, but it would be nearly two days' ride, and that meant that they would be leaving soon.

And true enough, the following days flew by. Ella, her family, Ser Donnel, and several guards and stewards began their journey south towards Riverrun. Ella had missed the countryside of the Riverlands. On her journey south from Winterfell, she hardly had time to enjoy it, too preoccupied with being worried and afraid to enjoy being so close to her old home. Now, she enjoyed the long ride through the rolling hills and the woods.

Despite their journey being made to attend a funeral, she couldn't help her excitement, inappropriate though it may be. When they stopped, she bounced Benjen on her lap and cooed at him, asking him giddily if he was excited to meet his father. Benjen, babbling and soon on his way to learning his first words, was only excited because she was excited, giggling happily every time she spoke to him and babbling back like he could understand her. Before long they would meet Robb, and Benjen would meet his father like he deserved.

Sitting on a long in the woods, the others in the envoy milling around, she let the cool wind sweep over her. Alysanne came over and asked to hold Benjen, and Ella stood and let her. She wandered around, weaving in-between the trees, but always keeping the camp in sight. It was daybreak, and they were only a few hours away from Riverrun.

* * *

><p>He felt utterly in tune with his surroundings. From the top of the hill, at the edge of the forest, he could see the castle at the edge of the river. He had little interest there though. He wanted to explore the woods in the early light of the morning. Whereas the camp he'd just left was quiet and asleep, the forest was lively and buzzing. Birds sang their morning songs and fluttered from tree to tree. He chased after rabbits, scurrying through the brush, but all in good fun.<p>

He was deep in the forest, surrounded by trees and the sounds of the wilderness, but something caught him. He raised his nose into the air and took a long breath.

_Ella_.

That was her, it was! He knew her scent better than he'd realized. It was familiar, and he remembered burying his nose in it, remembered it lingering in the pillows each night. Excitement rose in his belly and he began to run, a tugging feeling inside of him like he was being pulled towards her.

_Ella. Ella. Ella_.

He was so close. He could smell her, he could_ feel_ her. She was growing closer by the moment, and there was a terrifying, exciting primal need inside of him that was urging him towards her. His heart was thumping in his chest, his feet against the ground, and he grew frantic in searching for her. She was getting closer, and closer, and he ran faster and faster to reach her.

_Ella! Ella! Ella!_

He burst through the trees, skidding to a halt just before he collided into her, and she turned in surprise, eyes wide and beautiful and everything he remembered.

"Grey Wind?"

Robb started awake.

* * *

><p><strong>Hellooooooo again my dear readers! I'm glad you're all enjoying! I know my last author's note wasn't very optimistic, and I wish I could report in with better news, but alas. In fact, I have to give some even worse news: summer is ending! That means that school is starting up soon, and when school starts up, there's no telling when I'll have time for writing. Luckily for you all, I'd feel ultra shitty if I left you hanging for over six months like I did last time, so I'm gonna be writing my tiny ass off over the next week or so and get out as much as I can! Things are really kicking into gear now so hopefully I'll be able to write chapters in six chapter chunks like I did a few weeks ago. I still haven't worked out of my funk with chapter 31, but I'm doing everything I can to get myself back into it, and things are looking pretty bright.<strong>

**Hugs and butterfly kisses to everyone who's been supporting me all this time - the fact that so many of your are enjoying and actively supporting is really wonderful and it means so much to me. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, let me know in the reviews!**

**By the way, just to up the hype for next week...you all are really gonna like chapter 30. Just saying. ;)**

**Love you all, see you next week!**

**-Rex**


	30. Thirty

XXX

There was only one more day until the funeral for Lord Tully, to allow the remaining bannermen time to arrive. The Stark army had reached Riverrun just after nightfall, the envoy from Seagard arriving not too long after. Robb knew that that meant that Ella was going to be there soon. She told him that they were expected to arrive the day before the funeral around noontime, if they made good time. So in the morning, shrugging off his dream about Ella in the woods, he made his way down to the great hall to break his fast with his mother, uncle, and the Blackfish. Their breakfast was interrupted.

"Your Grace," a squire said, appearing in the doorway and approaching the head table. He bowed quickly before continuing. "The envoy from Coldocean Cove is approaching."

_Ella_. Robb felt his heart jump in his chest. He nodded his head to dismiss the squire, then swallowed thickly before standing and going with his mother to the gates of Riverrun. He clenched his jaw and held his hands tightly behind his back, steeling himself. He was nervous, like he was meeting Ella for the first time all over again.

They'd exchanged letters in the month she'd been at Coldocean, but it was nothing like seeing her in person. What would it be like? Would she be different? Through their letters, she'd seemed very much the same, but he was nervous nonetheless. And then he remembered that she was bringing their son. Oh, that made his heart take up an erratic beat all over again. She'd written about him, about how he was getting so big and how he looked just like Robb. He was scared, though. What if he was a bad father? What if his son didn't like him?

Finally, he began to hear the steady beat of hooves on the ground. The crane on the red field whipped in the wind, and he saw the first of their group approaching.

Robb moved forward, walking with shaking legs towards the approaching party, and they stopped only when they were right in front of him.

Breathless, Ella slid from her mount, holding Benjen tight in her arms, and buried herself in Robb's chest. He wound his arms around them, buried his face in her hair.

"They told me you were dead," he murmured, breath warm on her neck, and it sent shivers down her spine to hear his voice again. "Your letters weren't enough."

"It's so good to hear your voice," she sighed, and then let out a quiet gasp when she remembered the babe nearly squished between them. She pulled away slightly, smiling as she lifted Benjen from his makeshift carrier. Robb's face took on a look of wonder, hands shaking as Ella placed their son into his arms.

He swallowed, staring down at the baby. Benjen was awake, staring up in confusion at the man holding him. Robb's heart felt like a little bird fluttering around in his chest. Holding his son for the first time was unlike anything else. It was terrifying and exciting. He felt so full of awe, that this in his hands was his son. His heart suddenly felt too big for his chest.

"Ella!" Catelyn came up to them, gathering Ella in her arms. Ella wound her arms tightly around Catelyn, burying her face in her shoulder.

"I'm so glad to see you," she said, and grinned when they pulled apart. "This is Benjen." She ran her hand over the top of the babe's head. Benjen blinked, eyes moving to look at Catelyn curiously. By the boy's utterly indifferent expression, it was clear that he hadn't the slightest idea the significance of what was happening.

"Oh, he's so handsome," she cooed, eyes shining. She reached to run a finger over his pudgy cheek, flushed and rosy from the cold air.

"My Lady, let's move inside," Donnel said, coming up behind them. Robb made sure Benjen was safely tucked in the crook of his elbow before wrapping his free arm around Ella. They trailed inside, where Ella was introduced to Edmure and the Blackfish, and Robb took them to a small council chamber where they could talk. Ella had explained through writing what had happened in Winterfell, but she reiterated the story to them when they were all sat around the table.

"We hid in the crypts with Osha and Hodor. Maester Luwin was the only one who knew we were down there. When we came up, everything was destroyed. I'm not sure if anyone was left alive. If they were, we didn't see them."

"Lord Bolton sent his men," said Robb, a frown on his face. "Did you see any sign of them?"

Ella shook her head. "The night before we went out, there was something going on. Shouting, fighting. We thought it was more Ironborn."

The frown on Robb's face deepened, but he shook his head. "I'll speak with Lord Bolton later. What happened then?"

"We found Maester Luwin in the godswood," she said, and her voice lowered sadly. "He told us to leave and go further north, to the Wall. He'd been injured, I don't know what happened. When we were leaving, he asked Osha to…" She shook her head. "Maester Luwin is dead."

They were quiet for a moment, absorbing the information. Catelyn continued quietly. "Why did you come south?"

"I don't know," Ella frowned. "I just felt it would be better. I figured I could walk to Castle Cerwyn and find help. I sent Bran and Rickon to the Wall, to find Jon. You haven't had word of them?"

"Not at all," said Robb gravely. He had Benjen nestled in the crook of his arm, fast asleep. His other hand was held tight to Ella's on top of the table. "And then?"

"I went to Castle Cerwyn. Ser Donnel found me and offered to take me south. He kept us safe on the way to Seagard."

"Is that so?" Robb asked, turning in his seat to face the knight stood across the room. "Then I must do something to repay you, Ser Donnel."

"It was an honor to serve and protect my Queen," Donnel replied smoothly, bowing his head. "I ask nothing in return."

"I insist."

Donnel looked up, met Ella's eyes. _Just say something,_ she was pleading. _Anything. Anything at all. You deserve it._

"I only wish to remain at your side, Your Grace, to serve and protect you."

Robb seemed pleased. "Then I name you, Ser Donnel, Lord Commander of my Kingsguard."

Everyone knew Robb didn't need a Kingsguard. He could handle and protect himself. The way his grip tightened on Ella's hand when he spoke, the way he glanced at her told everyone that it was truly a Queensguard he was forming, an order to protect the Queen at all costs, even if it meant leaving the King behind.

But Robb didn't know that Donnel would do that for Ella even if it wasn't his place.

* * *

><p>After they took their supper with the bannermen, Robb led Ella to their rooms hand in hand. He'd hardly let go of her all day, nor had he let Benjen out of his sights. Benjen was asleep for the night, and Robb set him down in the bassinet that had been moved into their chamber. Ella, meanwhile, changed into her nightclothes.<p>

"Where's Grey Wind?" she asked, pulling her hair from its braid. "I saw him in the forest on our way here, but not since."

"Hunting," he replied, smiling tenderly down at Benjen before moving his attention to her. His eyes wandered down her body hungrily before it was shielded by her nightgown. She slipped under the furs as he took off his clothes, shedding his doublet and loosening the ties of his trousers, letting them hang loose on his hips. He slipped into bed beside Ella, and she beckoned him closer for a kiss.

And then Robb turned over, keeping his lips on hers and he leaned over her. Ella felt exhilaration shoot through her, hands coming up to wrap around Robb's shoulders. His lips moved away from hers, down her neck and over her collarbone. He kissed everywhere he could reach, between her breasts and down her stomach, kissed the marks on her hips and she'd tugged on his hair to pull him up just as he began to kiss the inside on her thighs.

"I love you," he said, repeated it when her legs fell open for him, when he finally pushed into her and Ella kissed him so soundly it made his toes curl. He said too many times to count and she repeated it to him right against his lips, hands trailing over his skin and trying to remember everything she'd learned before he went away.

Their bodies stiffened and their heads fell back in pleasure, biting lips and arching backs, gasping names and words like _please_ and _yes_. It had been so long, too long. Ella had missed him so badly, missed his body moving over hers, the feel of his lips against the tender skin of her neck. And they woke tangled together, noses touching, with three words on their lips.

* * *

><p>Riverrun was somber following the funeral. Lord Hoster Tully had been sent down the river in a burning boat as per family tradition. It was a beautiful way to go, Ella thought. Much better than being buried in the ground. Robb had taken counsel with Edmure and the Blackfish, and learned that the Mountain had been lured into their lands and killed. Another victory, he'd said, but still not enough for them to win. He sat with Ella and his mother in their private dining chambers. They had more to talk about.<p>

"I spoke with Lord Bolton," he said, adjusting the logs in the fire. "He said that his men left Winterfell when they saw corpses hung up in the courtyard."

Ella let out a breath. She had never mentioned to Robb the horrible story of the farmer's family. She never liked to think of it and felt a stab of pain in her heart. Tears rose before she could stop them.

"The farmer's family," she said softly, and shook her head. "We escaped and hid in a farm, before we went back to hide in the crypts. The Ironborn couldn't find us. But Theon didn't want them to know." The tears spilled over and down her cheeks before she could stop them. "He sent them off, but he stayed. He took the farmer's children, and his wife. And he killed them. He burned their bodies and hung them up on the high arch for everyone to see."

Robb moved closer, taking her hands in hers. She sniffed softly.

"That poor farmer," she murmured, staring into the fire. "I'm only glad they didn't have a little one. I couldn't bear to have seen it up with the others. There is still no word of Bran and Rickon?"

Catelyn and Robb shook their heads gravely. Ella knew that she would have known if they'd been heard of, but help hope in her heart.

"They're okay," she continued, voice shaky with tears but filled with confidence. "Osha would protect them with her life. And they had Summer and Shaggydog with them. Those wolves would never let anything harm the boys. Especially if they're as big as Grey Wind is now. They're okay." She looked to Robb as if for reassurance. He could only meet her eyes half-heartedly. "They're somewhere safe. And they'll come back."

"Bran had been promised to one of Walder Frey's daughters," Robb said. Ella blanched. "And Arya to one of his sons. He's angry now that they're lost."

"He's angry?" she asked, the confidence in her trembling voice replaced with outrage. "Like this is all somehow our fault?"

"It matters not to him," scoffed Catelyn, pain and scorn in her voice. She shook her head. "We have engaged Edmure to one of his daughters to please him, but he's not yet content."

Ella heard in the undertone of her voice that there was something more to say. "What is it?" she asked, and almost didn't want to hear the reply. Catelyn didn't look at her, but met eyes with Robb. He looked at Ella with earnest.

"I didn't want to do this without your permission," he said. "I was planning to betroth Benjen to one of his daughters – or granddaughters, I suppose, or great-granddaughters."

She slipped her hands from beneath his and buried her face in her palms. Seven hells, her son hadn't yet reached his first name day and they were already discussing his marriage. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and times had never been more desperate than this. She swallowed and looked up, leaning back in her seat with resignation.

"Do it, then," she said. "Perhaps by the time he's of marrying age, we can find a way out of this contract." She continued in a lower voice, "Or perhaps by then the Frey's will have prettier daughters."

"I didn't want to do this," he said. "Benjen deserves better than a Frey girl…but we need his men. Sorely."

"I understand." And she did. That didn't mean she was happy about it. Taking a deep breath, she gave Robb an unenthusiastic kiss on the cheek before rising from the table. "I think I've had enough of any talk today," she said wearily, and bid them goodnight. As she left, she called Grey Wind to come with her, yearning to have some part of Robb be with her without actually having him there.

Her little pup had grown into a great beast. He made many of the soldiers and horses afraid, but she was not. When he saw her for the first time in the woods, he nearly barreled her over in his excitement, wagging his tail and whining like an overzealous puppy. She kept one hand on his neck as she returned to hers and Robb's chambers, running her fingers through his soft fur.

When she arrived at her chambers, she dismissed the nursemaid, who skirted carefully around Grey Wind. She went to the bassinet to see Benjen, and the great wolf followed. He was tall enough to see over the edge of the cradle, and he nudged the baby with his big wet nose before Ella shooed him away.

This was her little boy and she was loathe to let him go. There was a long time until he was to be married, but that wasn't all that Ella was thinking of. She'd been writing to her former maid and confidant, Penelope, who had been in Acorn Hall with her new husband. Ella wanted Penelope to come to Riverrun. She trusted Penelope with Benjen more than she trusted Alysanne, who hardly knew how to hold an infant before Ella showed her. When it was time for the bannermen and the army to depart, she would send Benjen back to Coldocean Cove with Penelope, Rhys, and Alysanne. Olin, after a good talking-to from Ella, had finally mustered his soldiers to join the cause.

She had meant to discuss it with Robb that night, but after having to recount the story of the farmer's family and hearing the betrothal plans for Benjen, she felt too emotionally drained to discuss anything right now. She peeled off her clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor for the maids to pick up, and crawled beneath the furs next to Grey Wind, who took up half of the bed now.

She wanted to hide beneath the furs and never come out, never have to deal with any more difficult decisions, never have to think of Benjen being married again – or at least not until he was much, much older. She was only seventeen. She wanted to go to Coldocean Cove and run in the waves in only her shift, wanted to paint and shoot arrows to her heart's content and never have to have any responsibility again.

But alas, it was not to be. She was Queen in the North, as well as a mother, and along with those titles came all the responsibility in the world. But for now, she thought, for tonight, she would lay her worries to rest, and sleep and not be fitful.

* * *

><p><strong>Helloooo again! Sorry for the late update - I usually update around midnight, but I've had to go to bed early for work, where I was for most of the day.<strong>

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I'm trying my hardest to get out another chapter, but school is approaching rapidly, and I think this might be the last weekly update for a while. I promise I'll try and update again soon, as I'd really hate to put this down for nearly half a year like last time, but as much as I love this fic, I obviously have obligations that come before it. I hope you all understand.**

**Let me know what you thought about this chapter! I appreciate any and all feedback. Your continuing support means a lot.**

**So now Ella and Robb have been reunited! What do you think will happen next? Red Wedding or no? Purple Wedding or no? Let me know in the reviews! (Also, as a totally random note, I really imagine Benjen looking like Prince George. Only with red hair, I guess. Whatever.)**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	31. Thirty One

XXXI

Penelope had written her to tell her that she would be in Riverrun soon. Robb had told her one evening that before long, they would leave Riverrun and head to the Twins for Edmure's wedding. Ella knew that it was time to talk to Robb about sending Benjen back home when the army returned to war. Robb had held council with his mother, uncles, and bannermen, and Ella knew that he liked to remain in the small council room by himself for a little while after he dismissed the others. She didn't bother knocking, knowing he was the only one in there.

At least, that's what she thought. When she entered, she found with surprise that Robb was not alone. There sat another woman across from him at the table. The pair looked up at Ella in surprise.

"I'm sorry," she said, quite at a loss for words. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all," said Robb immediately, standing and beckoning her in. Ella approached slowly. "Talisa, this is my wife, Ella. Ella, this is Lady Talisa Maegyr. She helps with the wounded in the camp. She's been a good friend to me."

A friend? Well…that wasn't so bad. It wasn't as if Robb wasn't allowed to have friends. He was an honorable man. _Ned Stark was an honorable man and he came home with Jon._ No, if Robb said that Talisa was nothing more than a friend, she was sure that he was telling the truth. She swallowed down the ugly feelings that rose in her chest. Lady Talisa smiled kindly at her. "Your Grace," she said, bowing her head in respect. "King Robb has told me so much about you."

"Has he?" Ella asked, genuinely surprised. She hadn't, for some reason, imagined Robb talking about her. She smiled at Robb, then at Talisa. "I'm afraid he hasn't mentioned you."

"I am, after all, only a nurse," she said humbly. Ella settled in a seat beside Robb.

"Where are you from, if I may ask? Maegyr doesn't seem like a Westerosi name."

"I'm from Volantis," Talisa replied, "across the Narrow Sea." She stood, inclining her head to both Robb and Ella. "If you'll pardon me, Your Grace, My Queen. I should retire."

"Goodnight," Ella said softly, and watched the woman leave them. She turned back to Robb when Talisa was gone. He looked sheepish, but Ella let it go. "I wanted to speak to you about something. Penelope will be arriving at Riverrun shortly before we leave; I was thinking, she could come to the Twins, to Edmure's wedding, so when it's over, she can take Benjen back to Coldocean."

Robb frowned, but he didn't say anything. Ella poured herself some wine, sipping it and allowing him a moment to think. "Does that mean you're coming with me?" he asked. She nodded.

"It's my place to." He didn't say anything, so she continued. "Benjen will be in good hands in Coldocean Cove. He'll be out of the way of all the fighting."

He nodded, but leaned back in his chair. She moved forward to take his hand. "What is it?"

"I've hardly seen him," he said with guilt. Ella leaned forward to kiss him deeply, then stood, tugging on his hands to beckon him up.

"Then let's go see him now," she said. They left their wine on the table and left the room, trailing through the corridors until they reached their chambers. When they arrived, the nursemaid who watched Benjen bowed her head and left them in silence. "Go lie down," Ella told him, and went to the bassinet to retrieve Benjen. She climbed on the bed carefully beside him, gently handing him the sleeping babe. Robb held him closely against his chest, so Benjen's ear was over his heart.

"I love him so much," Robb said quietly, hands cupping the little feet of the babe asleep on his chest. "He's so small."

Ella smiled, cuddling against his side. "You should've seen him when he was born," she said, reaching to smooth her hand over her son's head. "He seems so big already."

"I should've been there." Robb's voice was so soft that Ella nearly didn't hear him. "I should've seen him born."

"Don't," Ella warned. "Don't guilt yourself. It wasn't your fault that you couldn't be there. Neither of us love you any less for it."

She was right, and he knew that, but there was nothing in the world that would stop him from feeling guilty for missing his son's first months. He cuddled the babe closer to his chest, kissing the downy hair on his boy's head, rubbing circles on his little back. He wanted to say he was sorry, over and over and over again, for not being there to see his first breaths, for not watching him wake up on lazy mornings, for taking so long to hold him for the first time.

The parents chuckled quietly when Robb trailed a finger over the bottom of Benjen's foot and the baby squirmed. He was crawling now, and Ella had to keep a vigilant eye on him at all times, because he was faster than he seemed. To their relief, Grey Wind took well to the babe, and was endlessly patient with him. Benjen, young and curious, enjoyed the softness of the great dire wolf's fur. More often than not, when Grey Wind was lounging in the room with the family, Benjen would crawl over and curl up beside his beastly friend; or, if he was feeling particularly adventurous, he would climb atop the quiet wolf, and sit. For all the talk of animals being mindless creatures, Ella suspected that Grey Wind had an intuition unlike the rest.

Pressing a kiss to Robb's cheek and one to Benjen's head, she left her boys on the bed and began to strip off her clothes, preparing for bed. She paused when she caught sight of herself in the mirror by the wardrobe. As she stood bare in front of the mirror, she noticed how much she had changed. When she was married, she had a girl's body - lithe, slim, and a little bit bony. Now her body was soft, curved and plush. Her face was fuller and her hips were wider, and there was more flesh around her middle. There were marks on her hips and the sides of her stomach, angry and red when she was full with child and now fading to silver scars. She thought them ugly, scorned them, and for the first few weeks she was embarrassed for Robb to see them. He never seemed to mind, though, even stroked his fingers over them gently or kissed them when they were intimate.

Turning, she took a nightdress from her wardrobe and pulled it over her head, crawling back into bed beside Robb and reminding him to put Benjen back in his bassinet before he fell asleep. She dozed off quickly thereafter, and only woke once during the night, when Robb was crawling in to bed beside her, wrapping her up in his arms.

* * *

><p>She woke to the ticklish sensation of kisses on her neck and down her collarbone. Smiling, she opened her eyes, blinking sleepily down at the curly mass of auburn hair atop her husband's head.<p>

"Good morning," she greeted, to let him know she was awake. He smiled up at her, giving her a peck on the lips and paying no mind to the morning breath.

"Happy nameday," he replied, settling himself over her and peppering kisses on her cheeks, over the bridge of her nose, on her forehead. She smiled. That was right, wasn't it? She was eighteen now. That meant that soon, it would mark the anniversary of hers and Robb's wedding. They'd been married nearly two years by now. She could hardly believe it.

"I have a special present for you," he said, voice husky and face buried in her neck.

"Do you?" she asked. Exhilaration shot through her. He kissed down her body; down her throat, between her breasts, across her stomach, beckoning her legs open and pressing tiny closed mouth kisses to the insides of her thighs. And then Ella let out a gasp and a quiet yelp. The twinge of pain and pleasure - he _bit_ her. A shock went down her spine and straight to her core, back arching off of the bed, and her hands fisted in his hair. She could feel him smirk, licking the bite mark tenderly before moving his head a fraction to lick elsewhere.

She bit down hard on her lip to keep from screaming, chest heaving and toes curling. When he slipped a finger into her, a low moan ripped from her throat, and she bucked her hips into his mouth.

"There," she gasped. "_There!_"

It was torture, the way he relentlessly lapped at her, finger curling to find just the right spot. He kept steady all through her climax, free hand trailing along the ticklish spots on her hips and sides. She was twitching, face contorted in pleasure.

He kept on even when she'd come down from her high, squirming beneath his ministrations, and she chanted his name like a prayer. When she had enough, she tugged on his hair to beckon him up, and she pulled his face to hers, kissing him hard and she could taste herself on his tongue.

"I love you," she sighed, breathless. Robb chuckled at her.

"Oh?" he asked, grinding his hips into hers. She pulled him down to kiss him again. Just as the best part of their activities were getting started, a knock came at the door. Ella groaned, burying her face in his neck.

"Who's there?" Robb called.

"Lord Edmure requests your presence in the great hall, Your Grace," a voice replied. Ella's head fell back into the pillows, and she squirmed beneath him.

"You'd best go," she said, giving him a peck. "There'll be time enough for this after the feast tonight."

"I'm sorry," he said, leaning down to kiss her good before leaving the bed and getting dressed. Ella sighed and moved toward the wardrobe, knowing that she should get a start on her day. The next morning, after the festivities were done, they would be leaving for the Twins for Edmure's wedding. She had to pack her clothes, what little she had brought from Coldocean, and make sure she had everything she needed.

But as she continued through her day, something seemed…off. She had a strange feeling, an odd sort of dread that settled in her stomach and weighed her down in everything she did. She couldn't figure out what it was for a long time, until she looked out the window and noticed one banner that was missing from all the rest.

Now deeply unsettled, she promptly dropped everything and sought out Robb. He was in council with his uncle and great-uncle and mother. They paused their conversation when Ella walked in.

"Where is my brother?"

They all exchanged looks. Robb spoke. "He took his troops back to Coldocean Cove."

"_Why_?"

"I don't know, Ella." He was trying to calm her down before she worked herself up. She paced for a moment, ignoring the eyes that were following her as she walked a rut in the floor. After several moments of silence, it became apparent that Ella had nothing left to say. Robb shifted forward in his seat.

"Sit down," he told her. She did as he requested, but she remained unsettled in his seat, looking preoccupied and like at any moment she was going to jump up. He decided to continue. "We were just talking…I suppose you should be here for this. Renly has accepted our terms."

That snapped Ella away from her thoughts. "He did?"

"When this war is won, the North will be free." No _if_, Ella knew because they couldn't afford to think with uncertainty. "Though the Riverlands will have to cede their land to the Baratheons again."

Ella figured it must have taken much convincing to get Edmure to accept to allow the Riverlands to be ruled by Southerners, and more convincing yet to get the other houses of the Riverlands to agree. In the end, they agreed to the decision of their liege lord. Tentative hope sprouted in her chest. Winning every battle didn't mean winning the war, but their chances were made much better with Renly Baratheon at their side. Their armies would join forces shortly after Edmure's wedding, when their army returned course for war.

By the end of the day, her worries were pushed to the back of her mind, able to escape the severity of the war however briefly as the festivities continued. But during the course of the evening, as Ella was showered with nameday wishes, she couldn't help but feel the absence of her brother weigh heavily on her mind.

**Short chapter today, but I didn't have much more to say. There comes a time when you've worked on a chapter so long that you've exhausted yourself of it and have no more left to add to it. The next chapters should be normal length again, and will hopefully be along soon. I'll get to writing them tonight, but I'm torn between so many fandoms and real life responsibilities that I can never be sure when they'll be done.**

**Love and kisses to amrawo, Allimba, Blorg13, DarylDixon'sLover, Guest, Daybreak96, and DizzyDG for the reviews! They mean so much, and they absolutely help with motivation. Things are reeeeeeally going to kick into gear now. It's gonna get intense, and I'm so excited for you all to see it!**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	32. Thirty Two

XXXII

Edmure had whined and complained like a child about the unwanted marriage, until finally Catelyn and the Blackfish snapped at him and told him to act like the Lord he was. Ella heard no word from him about it again, even as they reached the twins and prepared him for his wedding.

Ella had never met Walder Frey and had never wanted to. By every account, he was a slimy, perverted old man with no care in the world beside his own self-interest. As such, she had to force an unpleasant grimace off her face as she stood in his hall and accepted his bread and salt. She wasn't good enough an actress to smile and look pleasant, so she kept her face in a neutral mask, never betraying the disdain she held for the man, much of which stemmed from his demand of her son's betrothal to one of his unpleasant daughters.

For her contempt of Walder Frey, she felt equal parts pity for his daughters and wives. The man had the decency to only have one wife at a time – though she had no doubts that if propriety had not demanded monogamy, he would has as many wives as would fit in his bed – but she heard he often chose the youngest of a lord's daughters to wed, women who were half his age or younger. Ella assumed the poor woman standing to Walder's right to be his wife, and she would be beautiful if she weren't scruffy and unkempt and had her head bowed as if she were ashamed. His daughters and granddaughters were sat around the room, each looking as dirty and unkempt as his wife. Some of them were pretty, or could be, but others had inherited some of Walder Frey's unfortunate features. Each of them had their heads bowed as well, looking very meek and small in the presence of the Lord of the Twins.

Ella tried to ignore Walder's foul words, so cynical and crude was he, but her attention was forced back to him when he began to drawl about the absence of Arya and Bran, to which the Stark family remained wisely silent, and when he turned his sights on Benjen.

"But him," he said, pointing at the babe bundled in Ella's arms. "He will be King in the North one day, and with him one of my girls will be Queen." By instinct, Ella held him closer to her chest. Walder Frey stood. "Let us rest. Tonight, Lord Tully will marry one of my lucky daughters, and things will be made right."

She turned on her heel and was the first one out of the room, bearing no thought to how it must have looked at Walder Frey. He got what he wanted, a marriage contract between her baby and one of his spawn, and she wouldn't give him any more than she had to.

The chambers that they had been given were musty, but comfortable enough. Ella wore her nicest dress, one she'd received only days prior as a birthday gift from Ser Donnel. It wasn't particularly expensive, and she'd owned much nicer dresses in her life, but she had left Winterfell with nothing more than the clothes on her back, and it was nice to have new clothes that hadn't become threadbare from excessive wear. For a Queen – or someone who was supposed to be – she found that she had very little clothes. The dress she'd left Winterfell in was torn and filthy and she'd left it at Coldocean Cove. For the trip to Riverrun she'd only packed two dresses, one of which was too short around the ankles. They were not the intricately patterned dresses of a Queen, she thought, but it was fitting. After all, it made sense for a Queen without a castle to be a Queen without clothes. At any rate, Ella hardly thought of herself as Queen, and felt more like a glorified Lady, though the others saw it different.

They left Benjen with a nursemaid that evening, going down to the sept to gather with Lord Frey's family and their bannermen for the wedding. Edmure had continued his silence on his wedding; if he had any more complaints left in him, he kept them to himself. Regardless, they would have fallen on deaf ears. Edmure stood at the altar, hands clasped tightly. Ella recalled the nervousness of her own wedding, how she had wanted to smother herself in the pillows that morning rather than get up and get married.

She, however, had the luxury of getting to know Robb before their marriage. It wasn't a particularly long courtship – Olin had feared that Lord Stark would change his mind, to decide to betroth his eldest to a lady of higher standing – and so had arranged for the marriage to be sooner than was customary. He had the decency, however, to allow his sister time to know her betrothed before they were joined.

Walder Frey's daughter had no such luxury. As far as Ella knew, Edmure didn't even know her name. His nervousness was evident in his face. He breathed out a long breath, giving Catelyn a wan smile when he caught her eye. Eventually came the quiet sound of footsteps, echoing in the silent sept. Ella turned back to see the bride, only to find that her face was covered with a beautiful lace veil. When they reached the altar, Lord Frey turned to his daughter, carefully removing the veil from over her head, before he turned and walked to join the crowd.

Edmure made no attempt to hide the shock on his face when he realized that she was beautiful. No doubt, he had expected Walder to give him the ugliest of his daughters. But rather, the woman who was revealed was startlingly pretty, plain but not in a boring way, striking enough to be beautiful.

"Lord Edmure," she said as she knelt, "I hope I'm not a disappointment to you."

Ella's heart wrenched, and she pushed away reminders of the fear of her own wedding. Edmure was an honorable man, honorable enough to treat his wife well, pretty or not. She knew that the young Frey woman would be in good hands with a husband like Edmure, reluctant though they both might be.

"You are a delight to me, my lady," he assured, and helped her stand.

Ella watched with a strange feeling in her chest as Edmure and the Frey girl were married. She kept her eyes on the couple, though during the ceremony Robb had taken her hand in his.

It had felt like many years since she had seen Robb laugh – though she knew that not to be true – and it was a delight to indulge in the merrymaking. Her nameday feast had not been quite so happy, perhaps because Ella was so preoccupied with her brother's absence. As his time away from her grew longer, she found herself feeling less worried about it, and whatever bad feelings it gave her remained in the back of her mind, always there but never bothering her enough to think on them too long.

For all the whining and complaining Edmure had done, he seemed quite happy in his marriage so far. He and his new wife – Roslin, as Ella had learned she was called – leaned together in their chairs, talking and laughing and drinking their wine.

"My mother is alone with Roose Bolton," Robb said, drawing Ella out of her thoughts. She turned to see Catelyn across the room, looking as though she were involved in a very reluctant conversation with Lord Bolton. "Perhaps I should rescue her."

"I hardly think your mother would need any rescuing," Ella hummed. "She can hold her own more than you know. Regardless, I wouldn't wish it on anyone to be left alone in conversation with _him_."

Ella cared little for Roose Bolton because he cared little for her. He had this funny habit of ignoring her presence when addressing Robb, one time even going as far as to talk about her as if she weren't there when she were standing right next to Robb. The looks he gave her made her uncomfortable, like he had something against her, though she couldn't for the life of her think what. What few times he did decide to speak to her, he spoke with such false kindness that it left a bad taste in her mouth to reply. From what she understood, Lord Bolton was not opposed to any form of torture. Ella held no love whatsoever for their enemies, but she would never wish upon them the things that Roose Bolton had in mind.

Robb stood, kissed her cheek briefly before moving over to the other table, inviting his mother to join him in conversation with Ella and extending no such courtesy to Lord Bolton. There was a brief, almost indiscernible flash of relief on Catelyn's face when she joined them, and though Lord Bolton regarded them with a dark look, he said nothing in protest.

"Your Grace," Lord Walder said, voice ringing above the ruckus in the room. The partygoers beat their fists on the table, jeering and calling out. Walder silenced them with a hand. "The Septon has prayed his prayers, some words were said, and Lord Edmure has wrapped my daughter in a cloak, _but_ they are not yet man and wife. A sword needs a sheath, and a wedding needs a bedding."

He and many of the men in the room laughed, but not Ella or Robb or Catelyn. Beside Lord Walder, his young wife looked immensely uncomfortable, squirming in her seat. Roslin had since been stuck pale.

"What does my sire say?"

The drunken guests began to chant and beat their hands and goblets on the table, wine spilling over the brims and onto the sticky wooden table tops. Heaving a quiet sigh, Robb stood to placate them.

"If you think the time is right, Lord Walder, by all means, let us bed them."

Edmure, at the high table, looked amused as the partygoers cheered, but Roslin beside him retained her pale look of dread. The music began to play again. Guests went to the high table to take the bride and groom, the men grabbing Roslin (who looked thoroughly uncomfortable) and the women grabbing Edmure (who seemed to be quite delighted by the attention). Robb clapped as the crowd carried them off, chanting and singing merrily all the while. Various pieces of clothes were being thrown back, some landing on tables and others on people, who shouted in joy and laughter if they caught a piece.

As the crowd filed out of the room, there were very few guests left, and little light. Ella pulled Robb down again, shifting in her seat.

"I'm so glad your father didn't allow that on our wedding night. I think I'd have died of embarrassment."

"It's a good thing, too," said Robb, taking her hand and dropping a gentle kiss on her knuckles. "It'd be such a shame to be a widower on my wedding night."

Ella's lips rose in a half-smile.

"Let's you and I go to our chambers," he continued softly. "We can have a bedding ceremony of our own."

Ella chuckled, leaning forward to kiss him deeply. She opened her mouth to reply, but doors were thrown open in a ruckus and suddenly everything seemed to stop. Turning in her seat, Ella saw a big man in the doorway, tall and muscular, and with an odd feeling she realized it was someone she'd seen before, only once before, when he was serving the prince in Winterfell. Sandor Clegane entered, paying no mind to the guards trying to hold him back, and Robb and Catelyn stood.

"Guards?" Lord Frey barked, unamused. "Remove this intruder! The audacity, to show up uninvited to my dear daughter's wedding -"

"Lady Stark," said Clegane once he spotted her, clearly having no regard for anything that Walder Frey had to say. "I brought her for you."

Everybody in the room had been so preoccupied with the appearance of the Hound that no one had paid any notice to the scruffy girl beside him who looked suspiciously like Arya Stark. Ella's heart jumped in her chest and began to beat rapidly. Catelyn took a shaking breath in, covering her mouth with her hands.

"Arya?" she said, voice shaking. The girl looked so different, dressed up in boy's clothes with her hair cut short, dirty and looking like she hadn't had a bath in months – which Ella figured she probably hadn't.

Arya broke. She began to sob, looking supremely like she didn't want to, but covered her mouth with her grimy hands as she began to shake. Catelyn ran to her, gathering Arya in her arms and holding her close. Ella stood as Robb stepped forward.

"Ser Clegane," he said, then paused for a moment at a loss for words, eyes lingering on his mother and the sister he'd thought until now was dead. "How can my family ever repay you?"

"Her return is not without a price," he replied. He spoke not with malice, but with a tone that made it very clear he had no qualms about wrenching Arya from her mother's arms until he was given the money he sought. That he was surrounded by loyal guards was of no bother to him; Ella had no doubts that he could run them all through without obtaining so much as a scratch.

"We will pay you any amount you desire."

As Robb settled out the Hound's payment, Ella took Catelyn and Arya away from the hall, to Catelyn's chambers so Arya could be cleaned and changed. Catelyn could hardly be separated from her daughter, who tried to hide her tears but cried pitifully through the night. Ella kissed her cheeks and held her close, whispering into her hair how much they'd all missed her, how they'd worried for so long. When they night grew late, Catelyn tucked Arya under the covers, and Ella saw her slip in bed beside her before she left.

She dismissed the nursemaid when she returned to her chambers, crossing the room to gaze at Benjen as he slept peacefully. She couldn't imagine being away from him for so long, and remembered with a painful wrench in her chest that she would be sending him away when they made their leave of the Twins. For a moment, however brief, she considered bringing him along, or staying so he would have his mother with him. But when the moment passed, she knew what she had to do. It was her duty to remain with Robb. Benjen would be safe in Coldocean Cove, away from the danger and horror of war, surrounded by his family and people who loved him, and would care for him until she returned.

Guilt rose in her chest and threatened to choke her, but she swallowed it down, telling herself firmly that she was doing the right thing, whether or not it was the truth. When she lay down in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, she decided that it came down to one thing: if she stayed with Benjen, she would never know if Robb was okay, where he was, what was happening. If she stayed with Robb, she would always know that Benjen was somewhere safe, that he was being taken care of. She felt as though somehow, staying with Robb would keep him safe. As though if she were there, she could prevent any harm that might come to him. However a foolish notion it might be, she kept firm belief in it. She turned onto her side and tried to force the thoughts out of her mind.

When Robb returned, he must have thought her asleep, for he said nothing to her and proceeded to undress before he joined her in bed. Once he was settled, Ella scooted over to him, wrapping herself around his body.

"You didn't get to see her," she said quietly.

"It's fine," he replied, pulling her close. "That I know she is safe is enough for tonight. I can always see her in the morning."

Ella buried her face in Robb's neck, where she was safe and warm and could escape every worry that pervaded her thoughts, even though she would have to give herself to such burdens when she woke up. Until then, she was happy just to sleep, to dream about the joy of the wedding that day and ignore the bad things that the good brought with them, to pretend that Arya's return had been a gift alone. She could ignore the heavy worry of her brother's absence where it lingered in the back of her mind. And for a brief moment, before sleep claimed her that night, she could imagine she was home in Winterfell, she could imagine that it still stood and she was young again, and no one had died and they were happy.

**Well, I think we can all agree that the wedding went much better here than it did in the show. Don't get too comfortable, though. This is still Game of Thrones, after all. Our beloved Starks won't be safe until this war is over and done - and even then, ho knows?**

**I'm currently writing chapter 34, and given that winter break will be upon us soon, I'm hoping to have more written. I've only just realized how extremely close I am to the end, so to be able to finish this story around the near year would be super neat! As always, no promises, but there will certainly be several more updates in the coming weeks.**

**Massive thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, HermioneandMarcus, darkwolf76, WhatsGoingOn, amrawo, Richasa, and Allimba for the reviews! I appreciate any and all feedback - not to mention that reviews are a huge help in pushing me to write.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! **


	33. Thirty Three

XXXIII

The fire flickered on the stone walls of the quiet chamber. Outside, the sun set on the Stark army's last day at the Twins. Come morning, they would pack their camp and leave to go southward again, to regain the course of war. Until then, however, the mothers and wives who followed the soldiers could rest knowing that they had one more night before the peace ended.

"Is it always like this?" Ella asked, staring down at Benjen cradled in her arms. Catelyn looked up from the needlepoint in her hands. "Is it always this hard to be a mother? To love someone so much that nothing in the world could come before them?"

"It is, I'm afraid," Catelyn replied, smiling bitterly. "It will never be different, no matter how many children you have."

"Why do sons leave?" she asked quietly, lowering her head to press her forehead to Benjen's. "He's so little. I can't leave him. What kind of mother does this make me?"

"A good one." Catelyn set down the needlepoint, moving closer to Ella and placing a hand on the hand the cradled Benjen's head. "You're leaving him so he is out of the path of war, so you can see to it that he will have a safe place to grow up. It is for the same reason I am sending Arya to Riverrun." She kissed Ella's forehead, then looked down at Benjen. "You have such a beautiful son," she murmured, smiling sweetly down at the babe asleep in his mother's arms. "He looks just like Robb. He will be a happy boy, Ella. Even when you are apart from him, he is never without your love. Remember that when we're gone."

Ella swallowed thickly, carefully setting her son in his cradle, then turning in Catelyn's embrace to hug her, burying her face in Cat's shoulder and sniffling. Catelyn shushed her quietly, smoothing her hand over Ella's hair.

* * *

><p>Ella had been silent all morning. As the first hints of dawn touched the sky, she had handed her sleeping son to Penelope, trailing one finger along his soft cheek before letting him go. Penelope and her husband had promised that Benjen would be in good hands, that they would see to it that he was safe and warm during their ride back to Coldocean Cove. Their assurances were lost on Ella. She wasn't worried for her son, she knew that sending him to Coldocean was what would be safest for him, but she couldn't help to feel like the worst mother in the world.<p>

She departed from the Twins with Robb and his army. As they left she looked back once, only once, and saw the riders bound for Coldocean Cove disappear into the tree line across the river. With a heavy heart, she turned away from the scene, kicking her horse forward. _He will be safe. He will be safe. _That was the only thought that could bring Ella any ounce of comfort. No spoken words could sooth her, nothing in all the world would make her feel right again until she was reunited with her son. She thought many times during that morning that she ought to turn around, to kick her horse into a gallop and not stop until she reached Benjen. And just as she was about to do it, just as she was about to abandon sense and sanity, she spotted Robb upon the hill and remembered herself.

He was sat on his horse, surveying the army as they passed below him. Her duty was to her son as it was to her husband. She had ensured her son's safety, and now it was time for her to ensure Robb's. So she continued on the path, refusing to be burdened anymore by leaving her son behind, regardless of whatever pain still lingered in the bottom of her heart. He was silhouetted against the sunlight that shone through the leaves of the trees. Ella married a boy, she thought when she saw him there at the head of his men. Not a soldier, not a lord, and certainly not a king. Ella married Robb Stark, the boy who was just as shy as she.

She didn't know this man he'd turned into, but she loved him all the same.

* * *

><p>They traveled from dawn to sunset. In perhaps a week or so, they would reach Pinkmaiden. There, they would rendezvous with the Baratheon army, and Robb and King Renly would decide whether to march on King's Landing or Casterly Rock. When camp had been made, Ella had gone to hers and Robb's tent in silence, settling herself down and brushing out her long braid. She changed into her nightclothes, and was crawling into bed just as Robb entered the tent with dinner.<p>

"Ella?" He had the servant set their food on the table and shooed them out. "Aren't you going to have dinner?"

"I'm not hungry," she said simply. Her voice was soft, gentle, but there was a quiet finality. He ate in silence; the only sound in the tent was the crackling of the fire and the scrape of his fork against his plate. When he was finished, he joined her in bed, sliding beneath the covers and wrapping his body around hers. He said nothing, only kissed her neck and her shoulders and held her tight, and she wept softly, silently until the both of them were asleep.

He still woke in the middle of the night, shaking and shivering, because in his dreams there were Bran and Rickon and Ella and Benjen, still and pale and covered in blood. She'd hold him, let him cry into his shoulder and whisper assurances into his ear. "I'm here," she'd say, "I'm here," and before she would fetch Benjen from his cradle just so Robb could hold him, to be sure that their boy was safe, peaceful and asleep and ever oblivious to the war around him. But now, when their son was gone and they were alone in their tent, she could do nothing but hold him tight and pray to the gods that these terrors would not burden him forever.

She woke in the night, too, sobbing from nightmares and he'd hold her, too, whisper to her softly and kiss away her tears. She dreamt of Winterfell, of sitting beneath the Godswood with Robb or standing at the stables with Analysa, but sometimes it was of Theon with his sword in his hand, one, two, three hacks at Rodrik's corpse, just to try and get his head off, or the burnt corpses of the farmer's family hanging from the walls.

Ella must have thought that Robb said something to Donnel. Three days into their trip, three days of near-silence from her, he suddenly began to sidle his horse next to hers, falling into step beside her and striking up a conversation. At first, she rebuked him, refusing to acknowledge to him. She was too distracted, too busy trying to forget her guilt and by doing so indulging it. Donnel was persistent. He talked through her silence, very comfortably maintaining a one-sided conversation. Eventually, her heart lightened. His presence and his jokes, his lighthearted demeanor brought her mind away from her worries.

They continued on in much the same manner for the duration of their journey southward. From the moment the army began to move, Donnel was at her side, talking about anything and everything. They would maintain their conversation, and the comfortable silences in-between, until it came time for the army to stop. He left as soon as Robb rejoined Ella, not a word passed between the two, but occasionally a meaningful look that Ella caught just as they turned away from each other.

Another, less frequent companion of Ella's was Talisa, the nurse. Ella had spotted her several times while they were traveling, and had never decided to approach her until a midday stop, when she spotted the young woman sitting near a fire and penning a letter. With little hesitance, Ella approached her, swallowing down the green beast that curled in her stomach at the thought of her. Without so much as an introduction, she settled herself down beside the nurse, startling her quite a bit, and dived headfirst into a conversation about how nice the day was, and how well their journey was going. Ella had invited Talisa to ride with her once or twice, when she tired of dear Donnel's company.

Something in Ella hated her, just a little. She found Talisa to be a very kind woman, gentle but firm in her opinions and beliefs, which Ella found admirable. After a while, she could understand why Robb had found a friend in her. Ella envied the friendship that had formed between the nurse and her husband. She and Robb confided in each other, and conversation came easily between them, yet still Ella despaired to see Robb come talk to Talisa if he had the chance. She knew that Robb would never dishonor her – especially when she was in camp with them – but there was still something inside her that wondered. They loved each other, of course, but they did because they had to. If Robb hadn't been married to her, hadn't been bound by honor, would he fall in love with Talisa instead? Ella frequently found herself shaking away these thoughts before they consumed her.

Each time Ella thought she had escaped one worry, another came along to trouble her again. One morning, when they'd made camp a day's march west of Pinkmaiden Castle, she woke and exited the tent, walked around to greet the soldiers, when she noticed a banner among the others that had been missing for quite some time. Shocked, she quickly made her way to the council tent. Robb was in the tent at the head of the table, as well as Donnel, Catelyn, and several of the Starks' most loyal bannermen. Robb and Catelyn immediately shared a look when Ella entered.

"I don't know where your brother is," Robb said immediately, just before Ella could ask. "His soldiers returned last night, but your brother is yet to be seen among them."

Ella frowned. She moved slowly around the table, gradually making her way to Robb's side.

"I don't understand," she said, brow furrowed.

"We've sent men to search for him. So far, none of his soldiers will give us any answers. They're all very vague."

"How could he not be here? How could he send his men and not come with them?"

"Worry not, Your Grace," said Donnel, now. He turned to Ella and Robb from where he stood near the front of the tent. "We will find him. After all, how hard can it be to find one man among ten thousand?"

Ella gave a slight smile, very much appreciating the sweet knight's attempt at cheering her up. She knew he hated to see her unhappy, for he'd told her so several times before. She humored him by brightening a little. Donnel smiled in return. The tent flap opened and a man walked in.

What happened in the next few moments was all a blur. Donnel gasped, eyes wide in surprise and horror and a red spot bloomed on his doublet. Ella heard the hiss of swords being withdrawn, shouts rising up from outside, all around the tent. People were saying things to her, she felt them grabbing at her, but she felt confused, like her mind simply stopped understanding anything. Donnel's knees buckled and he didn't seem to be looking at her anymore. He didn't seem to be looking at anything.

She tried to hold him, to catch him before he landed on the ground, but even as her hands closed around his armor, they were pulling her away, shouting nonsense at her about keeping safe. But no, no, Donnel wasn't moving. And why wasn't Donnel moving? He needed to get up, tell her a joke and give her the goofy smile that always gave her comfort, to kiss her cheek closer to the corner of her mouth than was considered proper.

It wasn't until they forced her away from his body that she realized that she was screaming. Someone picked her up and threw her over their shoulder, holding her tight to keep her from flailing. Robb's hand, only moments ago wrapped around hers, was gone. She twisted in the man's grip and fell out of his grasp, landing on the floor with a thud. She ignored the throbbing pain from the fall and scrambling up off of the floor. She ran towards Robb, taking Donnel's sword from his belt - _he's still not moving,_ she thought - and exiting the tent where Robb had just gone out.

There was utter chaos outside the tent. Men were yelling and screaming, words that sounded like _ambush_ and _traitor_. Everything was a blur of blood and swords. She felt weapons nick her here and there, lost sight of Robb, and fought as best she could until a big brute approached her and she knew better than to do anything other than turn and run.

She saw a grey form brush past her like wind, and then there was a growl and men were screaming as the wolf tore out their throats. Ella didn't know where to go. She was stuck in the middle of the fray, a too-heavy sword in her hands. She nearly screamed when someone grabbed her arm. Smalljon Umber gave her an imploring look.

"You need to run, My Lady!"

"I need to find Robb," she breathed, shaking her head. The Smalljon looked at her like she was crazy. _Maybe I am._

"My Lady, _go_! Get on a horse and run! Find protection, hide! _Go_!"

"Ella!" That voice made her turn her head. Robb was back by the torn entrance of the tent, sword in hand and beckoning her closer. The Smalljon pushed her towards him and Ella ran. Robb grabbed her hand and tugged her behind him.

"You need to find somewhere safe." She could see the tent they shared through a rip in the wall of the small council tent. "Hide, and I will come for you," he told her. "_Please_."

She took off running, but had hardly left the tent when someone kicked her hard in the shin. She cried out, the scars on her leg throbbing, and Donnel's sword was knocked out of her hand. The brute who'd attacked her had a filthy grin on his face. It made her shiver when she recognized the hungry look in his eyes. He chuckled darkly, towering above her, and staring down like he was admiring his prey – but it was this that was his downfall. A Tully soldier roared and barreled into the brute, thrusting his sword through the traitor's middle, right through her family's crane emblazoned on his chest.

This gave Ella enough time to clamber to her feet and turn back towards the small council tent. Her leg ached and it hurt to move or put pressure on it, and she tripped over the ripped wall trying to get back inside. She picked herself up and grasped at the table, watching the ground as she tried to limp her way back to Robb. Someone was calling her, someone who sounded like Catelyn, but in the confusion she couldn't tell where the voice was coming from.

With a dull and sickening thud, her shoulder exploded with pain. The force of the impact made her stumble forward, and she tripped over her feet and fell with a dull thump against someone's body. Startled, her eyes widened and met Robb's. He was covered in blood, had a horrible gash on his face and was shaking. She saw the cut off half of an arrow in his chest like he'd been shot and had broken it when he tried to pull it out.

"Robb, no," she whined_. He's on the ground, like Donnel was. No, not Robb._ He was grabbing at her but she wanted to stay put. _For every sword, a shield. I need to stay here._

She could only manage a strangled cry when another arrow lodged itself in her side, and she felt Robb jerk beneath her and knew something must have hit him when his face contorted in agony.

"_No…_" His voice was rasped and torn and the last thing she heard before his eyes moved away from hers to look off somewhere behind her, and she fell off his body. Her sight went black before she hit the ground.

**You didn't think I was going to let them off that easy, did you? The Red Wedding was avoided, but there are still those in Westeros who want to see the reign of the Young Wolf come to an end. Robb and Ella aren't out of trouble yet (that is, if they're still alive…). They hopped out of the frying pan, only to tumble right into the fire. As for their fates, I'm afraid you're going to have to wait until the next chapter!**

**Love and kisses to DarylDixon'sLover, Erik, HermioneandMarcus, Allimba, DGfleetfox, dancewithdragons, and The Auburn Girl for the reviews, as well as to everyone who has fave'd this story and added this story to their watch list! The support means so much to me, and it helps me every time I begin to feel inadequate.**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'd love to see what you think!**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	34. Thirty Four

XXXIV

She was in a forest. There were hooves around her, thumping against the Earth, but she did not see any horses around. The sound was neither coming towards her nor going away from her. It was all around. Then were was shouting, anguished cries that echoed in the dark, and the sound of swords and pain. She tried to move, to get up off of the ground, but her legs wouldn't budge.

Then a wolf sat before her, a monstrous beast which looked curiously like Grey Wind, but it did not move to harm her. It didn't move at all. It only sat, staring her straight in the eye. Then the wolf let out a fierce growl and a pained cry, falling in a heap on the ground. She could move then, standing on unsteady legs and moving slowly towards the wolf.

As she approached, she spotted a shock of scarlet on the wolf's fur. But as she grew closer, she realized that there was something draped over the beast's body, a long red cloth, a banner with a white crane. She picked up the banner, only to see that the wolf's body was gone. Her attention turned back to the cloth in her hand, and she looked down in confusion at the sigil of House Reems.

When she blinked awake, her senses were dulled. Her vision was blurry and her head ached. Her limbs felt so heavy, that it was as if she were weighed down by lead. It took so much effort to keep her eyes open that she almost slipped back into her sleep, but there was something keeping her awake. There was something important that she had to ask, but she couldn't remember what it was. After several moments of blinking blearily at the ceiling, she realized that there were quiet voices coming from her side. Another moment passed, and the voices grew louder as her hearing improved.

"Queen Ellanor?" a soft voice asked. "Are you awake?"

She turned her head and saw King Renly kneeling at her bedside. She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but found she could not. Renly turned, looking at someone out of Ella's line of sight, and a moment later he had a cup of water in his hand, putting it gently to Ella's lips. When she was finished drinking, she closed her eyes for a moment, feeling as though the effort it took to drink had taken all of her energy.

When she woke, she first asked for Robb, and then asked for Donnel. Robb was beside her, unconscious still. And Donnel…

Oh, poor, sweet Donnel. She'd hoped it was all some horrible dream. Regardless, she had not the energy to cry. When Renly had told her, that they had found the lifeless body of the redheaded knight in the tent, she turned her head away from him. There was something in her that could not process what had happened. She knew that there had been a battle that had broken out, but the details were lost to her. There were quiet voices beside her again.

"The Maester says you need to rest," Renly said gently, resting a hand on her arm before rising. "I will find your goodmother to sit with you."

She was left alone. She blinked several times at the ceiling, trying to clear the fuzziness from her brain. When she turned her heard to the right, she understood what Renly meant when he told her that Robb was beside her. He was lying in a cot a foot away from hers, deeply unconscious. His breaths were slow and shallow, his body covered with bandages, some of which were seeping with red. At the sight, Ella began to cry. She had no energy to sob. She laid in her cot, prone and broken, with tears trailing down her face and onto the pillow beneath her.

She drifted off to sleep again sometime after that, though she wasn't sure when. The lines between dreams and reality were so blurred for her. When she woke up again, be it moments or hours later, Catelyn was sitting at her side, between her and Robb. She gave a deep sigh of relief when Ella opened her eyes again. She shifted toward Ella and carefully reached to hold her hand. It was then that Ella noticed that Catelyn was covered in nicks and scratches, and had one arm in a sling.

"Wh…what happened?" she asked softly, brow creasing.

"Worry not of it now, Ella," Catelyn replied with a gentle shake of her head.

"No," Ella protested weakly, with what little energy she had. "I have to know…Robb…"

"He will wake." There was a quiver in Catelyn's voice that Ella recognized. She was speaking with hope that was hanging by a string. "The Maester says he will wake."

Ella was not satisfied with that answer, there were so many things she still needed to know. Catelyn seemed to realize this and shushed her softly.

"Sleep," she urged quietly, in the comforting way of a mother. She ran her hand over Ella's forehead until she had relaxed. "You need to rest."

Ella drifted in and out of sleep for a long while. She was never sure how much time passed in-between, but when she woke up it was always somebody different at her side. Sometimes it was Catelyn – who was sometimes asleep – and sometimes it was the unfamiliar but kindly Maester. Sometimes it was Renly Baratheon. He never said much when she woke, usually only gave her water when asked and then immediately left to get Catelyn or the Maester. Ella often wondered why he was even there, if he never stayed around while she was awake. Each time she woke, regardless of who was by her side, she asked for Robb. And each time, the answer was the same: "Not yet."

She couldn't wait until she could stop falling asleep, or until she could wake up and find that Robb was awake too. Eventually, she woke up to find the Maester sat at her bedside. He gave her water and a bit of food, as was typical when she woke. This time, after eating and drinking and talking for a bit, she didn't feel horribly drained like usual. The Maester said that this was a good sign and helped her to sit up.

Catelyn told her that she had been abed five days. Ella had had enough of it, of sleeping and waking feeling disoriented and drained. Her body still throbbed with pain, her shoulder and side especially, but she insisted on making an attempt to stand despite the Maester's protests. Catelyn offered to bathe her, so with a relenting sigh, the Maester left them. Catelyn supported Ella as she stood, held tight to her hand as they slowly made their way from the cot across the chamber to the bathing area. They sat next to the brass tub, near the window, as the maids came into the room and prepared the water.

They were in Pinkmaiden. Ella still knew nothing of what had happened. The only thing that had been told to her so far was that part of the army defected very suddenly and betrayed them, and that the Baratheons had arrived in time to put the fighting to an end. Afterwards, she assumed that she and Robb had been found among the fray and were brought the last few miles to Pinkmaiden Castle. Catelyn, the Maester, Renly Baratheon…they all refused to tell her any details. When she asked whose soldiers had turned and what had become of them, they told her not to worry, that she need only to rest while the others dealt with everything. Ella felt it was a great injustice. Whoever had defected against them had sought to kill her and Robb both, and had no doubts that Catelyn's broken arm and various cuts and bruises were no mere accidental result of the fighting. She was the Queen in the North. Someone had betrayed her, had betrayed the North, and she wanted to look in their faces as she passed their sentence.

From her view at the window, Ella could see the army's camp around the castle. She could put a name to most of the banners flying outside, and noticed hollowly that her brother's banner was gone again. It would have been an unpleasant sight regardless; her nightmares had always included their sigil in some form, the most recent having been a white crane stained with red, pecking at the eyes of a wolf.

When the maids were gone and the bathtub filled, Catelyn helped Ella to stand, very gently stripping her of her clothes. With her wounds so fresh, the Maester disallowed her to take a proper bath, but Ella knelt next to the tub and Catelyn washed her hair for her, very gently brushing through the knots. When that was finished, Ella sat on the brim of the tub, her legs and feet in the water, and Catelyn took a wet cloth and rubbed the dirt and grime from her body.

Ella felt as though she had been filled with renewed vigor once she was in clean clothes again, hair damp and hanging loosely down her back. Catelyn helped her hobble over to the cot again. There was a large bed across the room near the door, but two little cots had been put in the room for her and Robb so the Maester had better access to them both. Catelyn sat her down on her cot, wordlessly putting on her stockings and lacing up her boots for her. As she sat, Ella let her eyes trail over Robb.

He had sustained worse injuries than she had. From what she was told, he had been shot with an arrow three times, and had sword wounds scattered around his body. The Maester assured her, when she had nearly worked herself up into a fit, that by some miracle, none of the arrow wounds had been fatal, though two had come close. He could not tell her with any certainty when he would wake up.

Catelyn urged her to remain in the chamber, to rest, because to jostle her wounds too much would interfere with her healing, but she protested. She stood and began to walk towards the door, and Catelyn sighed and came to help her. They walked through the halls and down the stairs very slowly and very carefully, making their way to the solar that King Renly had been using. A tall woman stood guard, so tall and muscular that Ella nearly mistook her for a man, but there was something distinctly feminine about her features that put her off.

"Lady Stark," the guard said with surprise, and Ella knew definitively that it was a woman. "Your Grace."

"Hello, Brienne," Catelyn said warmly. "We wish to see King Renly. Is he free?"

"Yes, Milady," she responded courteously, bowing her head. She gave the door a quick knock before opening it, presumably called in by Renly. She stood in the doorway and announced Catelyn and Ella, before moving to the side and letting them in. Renly stood from his desk as they entered. Ella realized then that they were not alone, instead joined by a man and a woman who looked remarkably alike. She presumed them to be Queen Margaery and Loras Tyrell.

"Queen Ellanor," he greeted kindly. "We are all glad to hear of your recovery."

"Thank you," she replied warmly. Her legs were trembling from the walk, and Catelyn helped her to sit in a chair in front of the desk. Renly sat as well. "I hear that it was your army that put an end to the fighting. I cannot think how I can repay you."

Renly gave her a smile, warm but still with a touch of diplomacy that reminded her they were not friends. "Nonesense," he replied. "With our alliance intact, my army is happy to fight against any that might think to harm you. Surely yours would do the same."

"Of course," Ella replied, with sincerity and careful tact. She made to continue, and then faltered. "I must ask, though, as no one else will tell me. Whose men attacked us? Whose sigil did they bare?"

King Renly looked visibly uncomfortable, and he squirmed slightly in his seat before clearing his throat.

"We have made extensive investigations into the matter, you understand," he said slowly, clearly choosing his words very carefully. "After all, Queen Ellanor -"

"Ella, please," she said by impulse. Renly nodded.

"Of course – Ella. We wanted to be very sure that we understood the circumstances of the attack." He hesitated again, swallowing thickly. "It was the Reems men. As of now, we do not know why they defected so suddenly."

Ella felt as though her heart had turned to stone and dropped into her stomach. Somehow, it felt less like a revelation and more like a confirmation of suspicion. She wanted to know why, wanted desperately to know what role her brother played in all this, but Renly had just told her that they didn't know. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, blinking rapidly. She expected tears in her eyes, but there were none.

"What has happened to the men, the fighters?" she asked.

"Those who were not killed were put in irons. They are in the cells now, to await King Robb's justice."

"And the Kingslayer? He must be kept in a cell alone."

Renly blanched. He shifted in his seat again and Ella felt struck with dread. She was certain she knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth. "The Kingslayer is gone. My men have been searching days to find him."

"Did he escape, or was he released?" she asked, jaw clenched in anger.

"There was no sign of damage to the lock or to the cage."

She was nearly shaking with fury. She took several long breaths, trying to calm herself. Each deep breath made the stitches in her side pull at the skin.

"Is my brother among the prisoners?"

"My soldiers are looking for him as well."

"Catelyn, help me to my room again." Catelyn obliged, carefully helping her to her feet. Once she was standing, Ella turned back to Renly, now rising. "Thank you, King Renly, for the help and efforts of your men. It is not easy news to hear…but now I know."

"We will do what we can," he replied. "I will be sure that you are brought any information we might acquire."

They said their goodbyes and Ella and Catelyn left, making their way back to their chambers in silence. Ella felt as though she couldn't breathe, her chest was so thick with the force of her rage. Her brother had betrayed her, and she had a horrible feeling that a certain family had everything to do with it.

* * *

><p>Catelyn had left Ella to be alone. Ella had poured out her fears to her, and she could do nothing but reassure her that the Lannisters would have their justice. When the room was empty besides for Ella and Robb, she moved closer to her husband to tend to him. His breathing remained shallow and slow. There were bruises on his face, ugly in their red and purple spattering over his jaw and near his eyes. She took his hand in hers, careful not to jostle him too much.<p>

A quiet knock at the door startled her, but not as much as when it opened to reveal Queen Margaery in the doorway.

"May I come in?" she asked softly. Eyebrows raised, Ella nodded. She entered the room, closing the door gently behind her. She trailed through the room, the bottom of her pretty dress brushing against the floor. Ella hadn't had nice dresses like that in a long time. When Margaery reached them, she sat on the other side of Robb. "Look at him. It must be so horrible for you."

"The Maester says his breathing is improved, that he should wake soon."

Margaery was quiet for a moment, and Ella was aware of Margaery's gaze on her even though she'd moved her eyes back to Robb. "You know," she began quietly. "After the fighting was done, we found him on top of you. We think he was trying to protect you."

Ella remembered that day, remembered climbing on top of him to try and protect him, briefly remembered the feeling of falling away from his body when she fell unconscious. She had no idea how long the fighting continued after she'd gone, but she imagined Robb struggling to his feet to fight again, not covering her body with his to keep her safe. Without meaning to, she took a sharp breath in, only then realizing that tears had gathered in her eyes. She moved one hand away from Robb's to cover her mouth.

"I'm so sorry," Margaery said, leaning forward and touching her knee gently. "I didn't mean -"

"No," Ella said, shaking her head and waving her hand as if to wave the tears away. "It's alright. He will get better. I know he will. Bran was pushed from a tower and now he can ride again. Robb will wake up. The Starks endure."

The two Queens sat together in silence for several moments, looking down at Robb's prone body. Ella took a damp rag from the side table and brushed it over Robb's forehead.

"I should leave you," Margaery said softly, standing. "I only wished to see that you were well. What Renly told you, earlier…can't have been easy to hear."

"It wasn't, you're right," Ella said. She looked up at Margaery. "Thank you."

Margaery gave her a sweet smile. "We are Queens," she said, "and women. What have we if not each other?"

She moved around the bed and leaned down to give Ella a kiss on the cheek, which Ella returned, and left. When she was alone again, Ella buried her face in her hands and wept, mourning for Donnel and the others who had died, crying with fear for her husband's life. As the fire died, the quiet sound of her sobs was the only sound left in the room.

**Happy holidays!**

**These Starks keep getting off lucky, but I can't very well write about them if they're dead.**

**We've got Renly and Margaery in the picture! I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm super excited, because I love them. Renly honestly isn't my number one choice for King, but he's definitely better than Joffrey, and for the purposes of this story, we've allied ourselves with him. I LOVE LOVE LOVE Margaery and I'm super extremely excited to be able to write her.**

**Love and kisses to Allimba, DarylDixon'sLover, HermioneandMarcus, darkwolf76, Guest, Shnitzel, and WhatsGoingOn for the reviews, as well as to everyone who'd read and fave'd and followed! All of your support means more than you could know.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you continue to enjoy! We're getting gradually closer to the end! Please let me know what you all think, the feedback really helps me to pump these chapters out.**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	35. Thirty Five

XXXV

"Ella?"

He heard the scrape of a chair against the ground, and then the patter of feet as they rushed to him. A soft, warm hand enveloped his, and though his vision was blurry, he was certain that the figure before him was his wife. She was the first thing he thought about when he woke, the memory of trying to protect her limp body still fresh in his mind.

"Oh, Robb," she sighed, though it sounded much closer to a sob. "You're awake. Margaery, fetch the Maester."

He'd tried to say something to her, only to realize that his throat was so dry and scratchy that he could hardly speak. Ella lifted a goblet of water to his lips and he drank eagerly, paying no mind to the water that spilled down his chin. When she pulled the goblet away, she reached for a rag and cleaned the water on his chin. His vision cleared, but his limbs still felt heavy and it hurt for him to breathe.

"What happened?"

"Shh." He could hear the quiver in her breath, and knew she was crying quietly. "Don't worry of it now. Just rest."

He was happy to oblige her, feeling twinges and aches of pain throughout his body. Before long, Margaery had rejoined them, bringing the Maester and Catelyn along with her. The Maester carefully checked Robb's wounds, and Catelyn burst into tears at the sight of him, falling to her knees at his bedside and clutching his hand. Ella had refused to leave his bedside for the rest of the day, even as he began to slip in and out of consciousness after several hours of remaining awake.

When night fell, Catelyn urged Ella to sleep, that Robb would be mere feet away from her. Ella nodded, said to Catelyn that she would move to her bed when she got tired, but they were only things to make her leave. Once Catelyn was gone, in her own chambers, Ella remained. She fell asleep beside him, her head lowered down onto the bed beside him and her hand still clutching his. In the morning, she knew, she would be stiff and aching, but it was worth it to remain beside her husband.

He had awoken again in midmorning, when he was alone with Ella and Catelyn. Ella kept her vigil beside his bed, and Catelyn was near the fire, carefully crafting a prayer wheel for her son. He had blinked awake drearily, in a way that was not unfamiliar to Ella. He shifted slightly, groaning in pain when he jostled his injuries too much. She ran a hand over his forehead, glad to feel that it wasn't burning with fever, that his injuries were healing and weren't becoming infected.

He had scarcely woken when a frantic knocking came at the door. Catelyn beckoned them enter, and found a young squire to be standing outside, out of breath.

"What is it, Olyvar?" Ella asked. He swallowed thickly and took a gulp of air before responding.

"King Renly's soldiers have brought Lord Reems back to camp."

Ella's heart felt so stricken that she didn't know what to say. She choked on her words for a moment, before Robb spoke up.

"Keep him in the cells, Olyvar. When I am well, I will talk to him." Olyvar Frey nodded, taking his leave of them. When he was gone, Robb turned to Ella. "Why has your brother been forcibly returned to the camp?"

He spoke not with malice, but with such confusion that she wanted to cry. She hardly understood herself. "It was my brother's soldiers who attacked us, that day," she admitted quietly. "But they counted – they counted the prisoners, and the ones who'd died. It was far more men than my brother had in his service before. Something else is going on here, Robb. I'm sure of it."

"Alright," he said, and held her hand to calm her. "We won't worry of it until I'm better."

Ella took a deep breath to calm herself, to take the horrible tremors of fear and uncertainty away from herself.

Robb wasn't well enough to stand for nearly a week hence, but once he stood, there was nothing to stop him from returning to his duties with full force. He had taken lunch in his solar with King Renly, the two of them locking themselves in for over an hour and each emerging looking very pensive. Since the Maester disallowed him from walking too much, he broke his fast with Renly and Margaery and his bannermen, then walked to his solar, where he remained until it was time for him to return to bed to sleep. That was the place where they had first questioned Olin.

Robb sat at his desk, Ella beside him and King Renly on his other side. The solar was crowded with people, Margaery and Catelyn and bannermen from the North and the Riverlands alike. Olin stood before them in shackles. Ella leaned heavily on Robb's chair, both from tiredness and from the pain it gave her to see her brother stand before her husband in chains. Robb leaned forward in his seat; it was so silent and tense in the room that the creak of his chair rang out like a spine chilling screech.

"Lord Olin," he said deeply, speaking from the back of his throat so it almost sounded like a growl. "You have committed treason against the Crown, and for that I should have you hanged." Olin was visibly shaking, but he said not a word. Robb let that sink in a moment before continuing. "But you are my goodbrother, brother of my wife, and as such I feel compelled to grant you mercy. Tell me why you've done this."

Olin said nothing, flinched and looked to the ground when Robb narrowed his eyes at him.

"Lord Olin," he said again, and this time his voice was deeper and more dangerous. It gave Ella shivers with fear for her brother. "We know you were not alone in planning this attack. Who provided you the soldiers?"

Again, Olin was silent. Ella's heart was beating so heavily that she was sure that everybody in the room with them could hear it. She saw the nerve in Robb's jaw jumping, saw his fists clenched on the arms of his chair. She shook her head.

"Olin, _tell us_. Whoever is threatening you, I promise, you'll be safe from them. But you will have no mercy if you keep silent." Her voice shook when she spoke, but she spoke with enough authority to draw her brother's eye away from the floor. He looked her deeply in the eyes and she felt as though her feet were rooted to the spot. The look of terror in his eyes was so strong it struck fear in her heart.

"They are Lannister men," he replied, voice quiet and quivering. Robb looked to the Lords standing along the walls.

"Make sure all maps and plans are accounted for," he said. "No information of ours gets back to the Lannisters."

The men nodded and rushed from the room. Robb turned back to Olin, who had since returned his gaze to his feet. The tremors that shook him had increased greatly, and he was shaking with such force that the shackles and chains around him began to clank in the quiet room.

"How did this come to be?" Robb asked. "How did the Lannisters come to you?"

Olin said nothing.

"Is this all they paid you to do? _Tell me_, Lord Reems."

There was silence still. Robb let out a sharp breath, glancing briefly at Ella before he shook his head.

"Take him to the dungeons. I am not through with him yet." The men obliged, taking Olin roughly by the arms and all but dragging him from the room. He protested, shouting incoherently about being in danger, begging Ella to allow him to be free. She started when he began to cry out for her, but Robb laid a hand on her arm and she was silent. The door was closed, but they could still hear his screams echo down the hall, gradually becoming quieter and quieter until it was gone. Ella let out a long breath, sagging against Robb's chair.

"Will you hang him?" Renly asked. Robb looked sharply at him, squeezing Ella's arm again before replying.

"I am not through with my questioning, though clearly there was nothing more he had to say to me today. When I have learned everything from him that I wish to know, I will make my decision." He struggled to stand, and Ella and Catelyn were quick to come to his side and help him. "Until then, we will wait to see if any of our battle plans were compromised."

He offered Ella his arm, bid Renly and Margaery a quiet goodbye, and they left the room together. Robb walked slowly, and from the movement of his limbs it was clear to see that he was in pain, but not a hint of it showed on his face. Despite the slowness of his movements, he walked with his back straight and his shoulders back, face the confident mask he was used to putting on around his men. Ella held tight to his arm, helping to support him.

There were no words exchanged between them as they made their way quietly through the halls and back to their chambers. When they reached their room, Robb lowered himself down on the bed. Ella pushed him down gently, shooting him a small smile as he fell back on the bed. She crawled up beside him and curled against his side, pressing kisses to his cheek before he turned his head and caught her lips with his.

They remained there for a long time, curled against each other on the bed. Ella buried her face in Robb's neck, breathed in his scent of leather and sweat and felt comfort. The feel of his body against hers was delightfully familiar, something she'd missed in the time he'd been unwell. He tightened his grip on her, pulling her snug against his side. To know that he had been the only thing that stood between her and death was terrifying. He was not a solid wall built of stone; he was a man of flesh and blood. If he had died that day, she would have, too. In the front of his mind, he knew that there was nothing he could have done, that in such an unexpected attack, they were all at the mercy of the gods, but it still left a sour taste in his mouth to know how close they'd come to the edge of life.

Ella squirmed in his arms and then pulled away. He frowned down at her, but she didn't notice, looking up at the ceiling with a glazed over look in her eyes. He recognized this look, knew that it meant she was thinking hard. After allowing a moment of silence to let her think, he nudged her very gently.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked softly.

"I'm counting back the weeks…" she trailed off, fingers twitching. He knew she moved them when she counted in her head. "It's Benjen's nameday tomorrow. He's nearly a year old, Robb."

"Nearly a year," he breathed. Where had the time gone? Just yesterday, he was sure, he was a callow boy whose greatest responsibility was to mind his brothers and sisters. And now, he lay on his bed with his wife weeping into his shoulder, body scarred and bleeding, his son – his first and only – nearly a year of age, waging war thousands of miles away from his home, which stood in ruins. Who knew where his siblings were. They had been his responsibility, once. The whole reason why he had started this war was for them - for them, and for his father. Somewhere, it had gotten all muddled up. Thrones and crowns had become the object of the war. It was like everyone forgot about his siblings sometimes.

Ella was shaking, body wracked with sobs. It was so easy for her to fall into tears lately, when things seemed so fragile; the war, Robb's life, the lives of the people she loved. All of it was so fickle, it could change or disappear in the blink of an eye, and Ella was beginning to wonder if she could bear it any longer.

But Robb's presence at her side, his arms around her and the soothing murmurs he whispered in her ear kept her grounded. It reminded her that all things could change in an instant, but it was the way they were now that mattered most. His life, mere days ago, had been hanging in the balance. It could very well be that way sooner than any of them would like. But _now_, when it mattered, he was solid against her.

She calmed her crying soon enough, but remained in her spot against Robb's chest. His chest rose slowly beneath her, breath calm and full, and he had his hand fisted in her dark tresses of hair. When she turned her face up to him, he lifted his other hand to wipe the last remnants of tears from her cheeks, before cupping her chin and raising her face to kiss him.

"What are we going to do?" she asked softly. "My brother is a traitor and he's the only thing I have left."

"I know," he replied, and it was quiet but there was a firmness in his voice. "But I will give him the punishment that I see fit, Ella. Do you understand?"

She was quiet for a moment, before nodding silently. She did understand. She wasn't happy about it, but Robb was King, and that meant that the crime that her brother committed against them was treason of the highest order. She hated her brother for it. She hated him for hurting them, for betraying them, for getting himself mixed up in something that was likely to get him killed. She buried her face in Robb's chest again in a vain attempt to hide from the world and the troubles around her.

Olin's questioning continued the next day, cramped in the solar with the leaders of both armies, as well as the guards who held Olin in chains. This time, he was not given the dignity to stand, instead was thrust down on his knees before the two kings. Robb asked him questions and he was silent. Renly asked him questions and he was silent. The bannermen were outraged, had begun to suggest horrible things to get him to talk, before Ella stepped forward and silenced them all. Her brother's refusal to talk had worn on her nerves just as it had worn on the nerves of the bannermen, and when she stepped before him she was shaking with anger.

"Have you no honor?" she asked. "Have you no shame? It's enough that we should hang you for an oathbreaker, but this was an attempt at kinslaying, no less!"

Olin looked up to meet her eyes. "If you killed me, Ella, that would make you a kinslayer, too."

"So you can see how I am conflicted here, can't you?" She sighed, crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the desk which Robb sat behind. "Why did you do it?"

"He's not the rightful King," Olin growled. She looked up at him sharply.

"How much money did the Lannisters pay you to believe that?"

He was silent for a moment, and would no longer meet her eye. "I don't know what you're talking about?"

"Olin, I know you. Never has anything blinded you more than your greed. What else did they pay you to do? Send spies?"

"There were never any spies." He shook his head.

"There's no point in denying it, brother, the prisoners already confessed. They will hang on the morrow. If you don't want to be strung up with them, you will tell me the truth."

Olin bowed his head again, and when he spoke he spoke to the floor. "They offered me the money for the spies. I didn't…I didn't know about the mercenaries. If I had known…Ella, if I had known…"

"He lies!" One of the guards released Olin's arm and unsheathed a dagger from his belt. By the time the bannermen had unsheathed their swords, it was over. Her brother was lying on the ground, choking as the blood poured from his throat, and then he was limp. The guard stood there with his chest heaving, bloodied dagger in his hand, and he spat something about his son.

Ella was shaking with rage and shock. Robb had moved around quickly to be beside her, but when he touched her arm gently, it shocked her from her stupor. She tore her eyes away from her brother's body and looked at the guard, being restrained by bannermen. And she understood the word bloodlust very completely, just then. Robb put an arm around her shoulders but she shrugged him away, grabbing the dagger from his belt and lurching towards the man.

It was…odd. The feeling of sinking something sharp into a man's skin. He howled and so did she, but she removed the dagger and dug it in again, delighting in the sick squelch of blood and the slick slice of it through his flesh. She had pulled her hand back once more to stab him again when a strong hand closed around her wrist. It squeezed, and the pain of it made her drop the dagger. She stumbled back on her feet, Robb's arm around her waist as he pulled her back away from the man.

The room was quiet except for the sounds of the man as he lay dying. When he went limp, the bannermen let his body fall to the ground, and there he writhed and choked and whined. Ella felt proud. That man, he'd only left one ugly red, bleeding mark on her brother's skin, right along his lovely neck. But her, she left those marks all over the man. His blood was on her hands, on her dress, in her hair. The little that was on her face got mixed up in her tears and was dripping down her chin.

Everyone stared. She could feel eyes boring into her back but her eyes never left the oozing cut on her brother's neck. The hands were back again, trying to tug her off of the floor. She let them. Vaguely, she realized that Robb was saying things to her. She couldn't make out what he was saying. All she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears.

"Look away from it now, Ella," he beckoned her, pushing her into her goodmother's arms. Catelyn wrapped her arms around her, holding her against her chest, and Margaery approached and ran a hand through her blood-matted hair. They led her away from the solar, and Ella left footprints of blood on the floor.

**Hello again, everybody! I hope you all had a safe and happy holiday season! I know mine was certainly very relaxing. Unfortunately, the return of school is rapidly approaching. I'm going to try and get as many chapters written as I can this weekend, but I also have to prepare for school, as well as the spring musical, so my time's going to be a little short. I'm only about five chapters away from the end, though, so I don't imagine I'll be on a six-month hiatus any time soon. Updates might not be on a weekly basis, but I'm sure they won't be too sporadic.**

**Hugs and love to DarylDixon'sLover, Allimba, Richasa, and HermioneandMarcus for the reviews! As well as much, much love to everyone who has added this story to their favorites and follows. The support means so much, especially the closer I get to finishing this.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you think in the reviews, it would really mean a lot.**

**Until next time!**

**-Rex**


	36. Thirty Six

XXXVI

Robb was unwell and he could not see her off. His injuries had been agitated, and while they weren't life-threatening, it was of dire importance, the Maester said, for him to rest. Ella had kissed him lightly that morning but said nothing, bundling herself in a thick woolen travel cloak. She called quietly for Grey Wind to follow her, and he padded along at her heels as she left. Upon reaching her horse, and the small guard that was waiting for her, she kept her eyes averted from the wooden coffin on the wagon at the end of the procession. The sun rose over the hills behind a thick cover of fog; Ella rode away from the castle and spared no glance towards the traitors' bodies that hung in the wind.

The ensuing ride to Coldocean Cove took nearly a week, and Ella did not speak for most of it. She ate and slept and rode again, and never once looked at the coffin that held her brother's decaying body within. There was an odd sort of sorrow that had taken residence low in her chest. She had felt yearning for the lives of the loved ones that she had lost, and this was not it. This was not mourning, but rather…regret. She would not dwell on it longer than she needed.

It seemed the Riverlands were aware of her gloom, as the dark clouds and the biting wind and rain swept over them, following them until they reached the castle by the sea. Night had fallen by the time they had arrived; the sun had set just as Ella set eyes on the keep, and she commanded the party to continue on until they reached their destination. She was received by her uncle, who pulled her close against his chest, leading her indoors.

For the night, the envoy would rest, and Olin's body would be prepared by the Maester so it could be buried in the crypt in the morning. Until then, Rhys urged her to rest. He wouldn't allow her to see Alysanne, told her that she had retired for the evening long before supper, and sent Ella up to her rooms where Benjen was asleep. She had nearly collapsed with relief when she saw her baby boy, tucked safe in his cradle. She knew better than to disturb him when he was asleep, but she dropped to her knees next to his cradle and ran a gentle finger over the soft fullness of his cheek.

She slept heavily that night, but woke feeling as though she hadn't slept at all. It had been that way lately; her life weighed so heavily on her mind that even sleep could not give her solace. When she awoke, she swung her legs over the bed and sat for a moment, enjoying a moment of peace before she had to get up and face the world. Benjen whined in his bassinet. Ella didn't see it as a responsibility to attend to, but rather as something to help shield her from the world outside of her chambers. She picked up her baby, bouncing him gently in her arms as she crossed the room to a chair. She nursed him in silence, the only sound in the room being the soft suckling of her son and the muted sound of the ocean waves against the shore from behind the latched windows. Ella had all of the balcony doors shut and all of the windows drawn, leaving it dark in the room. With hardly a sign of daylight, she felt as though she and her son were blissfully alone in their little world.

She had nearly dozed off again in her chair, until Benjen finished and began to whine again. She sat up with the squirming baby, shushing him. A knock came at the door and she quietly bade her guest enter while she busied herself with the babe. Maester Travin entered, standing with his hands clasped in front of him while he waited for Ella to acknowledge him.

"His body is ready, Your Grace, when you are," he said. Ella hardly spared him a glance, standing and taking Benjen back to his bassinet.

"Send in the wetnurse, will you?" she said, back turned.

"Very well, Your Grace," the old Maester replied softly. The door clicked shut quietly once he was gone. She let out a long breath, and turned to begin slowly readying herself for the day. She dressed in silence, donning the heaviest dress she had in her wardrobe. When the wetnurse entered, she told the woman that Benjen had been nursed that morning, and said nothing else, settling herself down in front of the vanity and very slowly running a brush through the tangled tresses of her hair.

"Let me get that for you," a gentle voice said. Ella started, not realizing that Penelope had come in the room. The young maid took the brush from Ella's hands and began to brush through strands of her hair. "I wanted to see you. To make sure you were alright."

When Ella thought about it, she realized that she hadn't been alright in a very long time. "I'll endure," she replied firmly. There was still a nasty feeling in her chest that kept her from properly mourning her brother. When she went down to the crypt that morning, looking over the pale and prone body of her brother, she didn't know how she felt. She was sad, truly, but there was something in her that would not let her wish that he was alive again.

Alysanne sobbed. She buried her face in her handkerchief and wept. Rhys, face grave and sullen, said a few words over Olin's body before it was laid to rest. It was hard for Ella to look at her brother's corpse, and so halfway through her uncle's speech, she turned her head away. When Rhys was finished speaking, they lowered his body into the grave and covered it with a great stone slab. Alysanne was led away by the Maester, but Rhys and Ella lingered. The two of them stared down at the grave for several moments, before Rhys took Ella by the arm.

"Come with me, darling," he said weakly, releasing his gentle grip on her arm and limping out of the crypt. Ella followed silently. Today, when Rhys walked, he leaned heavily on his crutch, as though he had a weight upon his shoulders. He ambled much slower than usual, and Ella had to help him up the stairs. When they reached his solar, he shut the door behind them and bade Ella sit. She watched wordlessly as he moved with great effort around his desk. He fumbled for a moment, and then turned and presented her a longsword; it was the Bird, the heirloom of House Reems. It was finely tempered steel and a crane was engraved on the head of the hilt. Ella gasped and reached for it, but stopped herself.

"I can't take this," she said. "I'm a Stark now. It doesn't belong to me."

"Ella," he said, voice soft and sad. "I have no heirs. Olin left no heirs. After me, it is the end of our House. Please, take it. Let something of us remain when we are gone."

After a brief moment of hesitation, Ella reached for the longsword. It was heavy, but no heavier than she expected it to be. She held it and felt powerful. "Thank you," she said softly. She felt her brother's death burden her more then than it had before. "When my son grows to be a man, and he comes into Robb's place as King in the North, they will know him as a son of House Reems. I promise it, Uncle Rhys. This sword will be his."

"Good," Rhys said, nodding. "But until then, Ella, take it as yours. And use it to strike down the people that turned Olin against us. Use it to take from them what they took from us. Can I have your word?"

"Robb and I will see to it that they receive the King's justice," she replied. "And when it comes time for him to swing the sword, I will make sure he has this one in hand."

Rhys was quiet, then, settling himself down behind his desk. Ella stared down at the steel sword in her hands. She remembered tracing the crane as a young girl, being warned by her father not to cut herself on the sharp blade. Imagining blood on a blade brought her back quickly to the night Olin was murdered.

"I killed him," Ella said suddenly. "The man who killed Olin."

"You killed him?" Rhys gasped softly.

"I took the dagger from Robb's belt," she continued quietly, numbly. "I stabbed him – I don't know how many times. His blood was all over me."

"Oh, Ella –" he began.

"He deserved it. Robb would have been merciful. Olin should have lived. But the man…that man was so sure that Olin had planned the ambush."

"How many men were killed in the attack?" her uncle asked. She kept her gaze on the sword.

"I never asked. It's…selfish of me to say, but there was only one casualty of the attack that meant something to me."

"Was it Olin?" When Ella was silent, Rhys sat back in his chair, the old wood creaking under his weight. He looked her up and down, but she kept her gaze low. "Who was it, Ella?"

"Ser Donnel saved my life." And then she allowed herself to open up to her uncle, to release a thought that had plagued her heart and mind for weeks, and admitted, "Perhaps, if I did not love Robb, I would have loved him. He was the noblest knight I had ever known. I think that is why the gods took him."

"The gods take all good men," he nodded. "Your father and Ned Stark included. There's no worth being a good man in this world."

"I want Robb to be a good man," Ella murmured. "And my son. But I don't want the gods to take them."

"The gods tried to take King Robb, but he wouldn't go." Rhys shifted himself in his seat. "Let's you and I pray they won't try to take him again."

* * *

><p>The night before she departed, Ella held Benjen close to her chest all night. She placed his ear over her heart and prayed to the gods that he would remember the sound of her, that he would know her as his mother when she saw him next. The temptation to stay with him was stronger than ever now, but her desire to return to Robb was stronger. In the morning, Ella leant over the sleeping babe, ghosted her lips over his auburn hair, before withdrawing. She bade her family farewell, kissing Alysanne on both cheeks and allowing Rhys to gather her into a tight hug.<p>

Ella knew very little about their journey southward. She hoped that they would be returning to Robb, but even that was not absolute. In several days' time, the Stark and Baratheon armies would march on Casterly Rock. If they were victorious, then Ella would arrive at Casterly Rock and be reunited with her husband. And if they were not…she refused to entertain the idea. Robb would live. She and all of the North were counting on it. Winter was coming, and if Robb fell, there would be no one left to rule it.

**First things first, I want to apologize for this teeny tiny chapter. I tried to make it longer but everything else was just crap, so I deleted the bad bits and this was what was left. Secondly, I want to apologize for taking so long to get this chapter out. January and February were entirely consumed by the spring musical; between that, homework, and eating/sleeping, I had no time whatsoever for...anything, really. With spring break coming up, I hope to have more chapters coming out. We're closing in on the end now, so I'm _hoping_ before summer begins that we'll be all done.**

**Now I get to go to the rambly bit. Today marks the three-year anniversary of this fic. Which blows my fuckin mind, honestly. When I first started writing this, I was an itty bitty high school freshman with a new obsession. Now I'm a senior, and it's kind of incredible for me to think about how long I've been writing this. We'll hopefully be done soon. I'm not sure how many people have stuck around since day one, but to any of you who have: thank you. That you would still be here with me after three years means so much. And to those two have joined along the way: thank you. That you would be here with me as I finally, painstakingly draw this fic to a close means so much.**

**Lots of love to DarylDixon'sLover, WhatsGoingOn, darkwolf76, HermioneandMarcus, saderia, Captain-Spangled, and CasterGirl123 for the reviews, and love to everyone who has followed this fic and added this fic to your favorites. All of your support is the reason why I've continued writing for all this time; without you, I would have left this fic in the dust long ago. Thank you all so much!**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, short though it was. I promise the next chapter will be longer, and hopefully it will be out soon! I don't think the last five updates will be very regular, but I absolutely do not intend to leave this fic for longer than a few weeks! Let me know what you all thought, I love to know your reactions, and reviews help me write faster! Thank you all again for your continued support. It really does mean so much.**

**Until next time,**

**Rex**


	37. Thirty Seven

XXXVII

_And who are you, the proud lord said, that I must bow so low?_

The words rang out in the quiet hall, the victorious army smiling smugly down at the corpses that littered the halls of Casterly Rock. All of the corpses would soon be gathered up and disposed of. Burned, tossed in the ocean, what did it matter? They would be gone, their bodies nothing more than the remnant of another army who fought and lost at Casterly Rock.

So the song began. As final insult to the Lannisters, the Rains of Castamere was the first song that was played when the celebrations began. It was not traditional to celebrate a victory, but this was not a battle fought in some field. What did it matter now that the Kingslayer had been returned to King's Landing? The Lannisters had no place to run and hide. They no longer had the option to cower behind their Rock. Casterly Rock had fallen, the Lannister soldiers overwhelmed by the combined forces of the Stark and Baratheon army, and it would not be long before the army turned their sights to King's Landing itself.

In the meantime, however, the two Kings made themselves comfortable in Tywin Lannister's hall. It was lavish, as was expected of the richest man in Westeros. And though the keep was warm and secure, both Robb and Renly found themselves feeling ill at ease. Casterly Rock was theirs, but they would not sleep easy under its roof until Tywin and all his spawn were dead. When the battle was over, Robb had assured Renly that Casterly Rock was his. House Stark wanted nothing to do with the place once it had been won.

It did not sit well with Renly that most of the Riverlands had declared for Robb. Robb sought only to rule the North as a separate kingdom, but with Houses Stark and Tully so closely allied, the Riverlands wanted less and less to do with southrons as the war waged on. When the celebrations were over and he was better rested, Robb knew he would need to speak with Edmure and his mother about convincing the houses of the Riverlands to side with Renly, or to find a way to convince Renly to continue the alliance even with the Riverlands declared for Robb.

When they had spoken of this briefly before the battle, Catelyn had mentioned her sister in the Vale. Throughout the entire war, House Arryn had remained neutral. If Robb could persuade his aunt to rally her banners to his cause, it might change the tide of the war. Even with Casterly Rock under their thumb, the Stark and Baratheon armies were still evenly matched with the Lannister-led forces that remained. As it was now, an attack on King's Landing had a fair chance of going either way.

"Your Grace?" Olyvar Frey stood in the doorway with his hands clasped behind him.

"What is it, Olyvar?" Robb asked softly, muscles aching all over when he lifted his goblet of wine to his lips.

"Queen Ellanor's envoy is approaching."

Robb swallowed. "When she arrives, bring her here to me."

Olyvar was a good squire, or good enough, Robb supposed. He did as he was instructed, bringing Ella to his chambers and then bowing out. Ella nearly ran to him when she saw him, dropping to her knees before his chair and clutching his hands. Robb pulled her up, settling her in his lap. She buried her face in his neck and he encircled her shaking body with his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.

"I'm here," he murmured softly, tangling his hand in her hair. She pulled away and kissed him deeply, the tears trailing down her face wetting both of their cheeks.

"I've had enough of this war," she muttered, pressing her forehead against his. "I hate it. I hate letting you walk off into battle."

"I know," he said deeply, clutching her against him. He took her chin in his hands, bringing their lips together, and said before kissing her deeply, "I know, Ella. I'm sorry."

His body was still battered, from the attack and from the battle. Even still, he held his wife tight against him, one hand on her neck and the other played across her hips. He pulled her closer, squeezing once she was close as he could get her. He deepened the kiss, and when Ella pulled away, he trailed kisses down her jawline and her neck.

"Robb," she breathed, "your wounds –"

"Are healing." He returned his lips to hers, arms tightening around her as he rose from the chair. He carried her to the bed, setting her down on the heavy blankets. He placed his body over hers, placing one hand on either side of her head and locking her in place, his hips against hers. Even through layers of leather and skirts, she could feel the warmth of his body against her. When the clothes were gone, his skin was hot, and his breath was hot, and she lost herself in the heat of him.

* * *

><p>The sun rose red in the western sky, casting a sharp glare over the glittering ocean, so Ella shielded her eyes as she watched the ships sail away from Casterly Rock. The Mallister and Manderly banners were waving upon the sea wind, growing ever smaller each passing moment. With Casterly Rock taken, and with the aid of Renly's army, Robb finally had enough soldiers to spare to send to the North and root the Ironborn from their land. Renly, in a gracious show of alliance, had offered one of the Tyrell banners to accompany the ships to the North to put a stop to the rebels. After all, Renly told them, when he won back his rightful throne, the Iron Islanders would have to answer to him.<p>

Robb smiled and assured Renly that the Iron Islands would be his, before he suggested that they move back into the keep to discuss such matters further. Ella and Margaery trailed closely behind, arms linked. The men deliberated, but the women listened closely. As Queens, these were their lands, too. The Queen was in charge of more than just the household and the parties. Robb and Renly stood over the tactical map, wives peering over their shoulders.

"If I can convince my Aunt Lysa to call the banners of the Vale – declaring for you," Robb added hastily, "– then we would have a force almost certainly large enough to sack King's Landing."

"There has been no sign from the Vale regarding their loyalties. In times like these," said Renly, "we must assume that their neutrality signifies loyalty to Joffrey."

"It's only Lady Arryn who wishes to remain neutral in the war," Ella spoke suddenly, moving forward to examine the map. "Many Houses have urged her to take action. My aunt is Lady of House Redfort, they've been very vocal about their support in our favor."

"Does House Redfort hold any sway against Lady Arryn?" Robb asked. Ella shrugged, frowning.

"In times as dire as these, anything is worth a try."

As they deliberated, more and more people began to file into the room. First it was Catelyn, followed closely by Lord Umber and Lord Glover, and then Robb's personal guard: Dacey Mormont, Olyvar Frey, Smalljon Umber, the Frey sons, and several others that Ella didn't know the names of, but who all fought beside Robb in battle. Ella had hardly had the chance to speak to any of them, but she saw in them a fierce loyalty to Robb and his House. When a pause came in the discussion, Robb looked up from the table at his mother. She looked so grave lately, so fraught with worry. After a moment, he stood straight with his shoulders squared.

"I will send my mother to the Vale," he said firmly. Renly stood to his full height, too, as though to challenge Robb should he disagree with the other King's terms. "And my wife will write to her aunt of House Redfort. If, by these measures, we cannot get Lady Arryn to agree to raise her banners in our favor, then we will be left with no choice but to march on King's Landing alone."

Renly nodded solemnly. "Then, Lady Stark," he said to Catelyn, who had her lips set in a straight line. "I should wish you the best of luck."

She rode for the Vale two days hence, kissing Robb firmly on the forehead and holding him closely before she pulled away and gave him a long look. Catelyn left accompanied by a guard of one hundred men, several of Robb's personal guard included. Just as they watched the ships sail away until they were flecks of black on the golden sea, they watched Catelyn and her guard ride across the plains until they crested a hill and were gone.

When Robb and Renly returned to the solar, Margaery took Ella's hand in hers and invited her for tea on the balcony. Margaery was very pleasant, and Ella took to her quite well, though she felt as though there could be a fakeness to Margaery's kindness at times. Regardless, Ella was glad for Margaery's company; she had very few friends nowadays, even fewer female friends, given that Ella was too intimidated by Dacey Mormont to say more than a few words to her. Though Margaery's kindness could seem superficial at times, there were times where she could be very genuinely caring, and Ella was grateful.

Margaery was also a great deal braver than Ella was. As they walked through the halls of Casterly Rock towards Margaery and Renly's chambers, they were stopped in their tracks by Lord Bolton, who had rounded the corner coming their way. His eyebrows rose marginally when he spotted them, and he had just opened his mouth to say something to them when Margaery very quickly spoke over him.

"Good morning, Lord Bolton," she said without breaking gait, continuing on around the corner without a second glance toward the man. When they were further down the hall, surely out of earshot of Lord Bolton, Ella gave a shudder.

"What a dreadful man," she said under her breath. Margaery smirked.

"No wonder at all that the Bolton's call their home the Dreadfort," she remarked. As they sat for tea on the balcony, overlooking the sea, Ella was brought back to her home. Her last visit had been unpleasant, but the one before – oh, the one before, she had sat on the warm sand and listened to the roar of the waves. The sound of the ocean always brought her fond memories of home. "What are you thinking about?"

"The Cove," answered Ella with a soft smile. "My home before Winterfell."

"What was it like there?" Margaery leaned in and seemed very involved in what Ella had to say.

"A lot like here, only colder, and less grand."

"And Winterfell?" she asked. "What was it like there?"

Ella paused for a moment, frowning. "Beautiful. A strange sort of beauty that you have to get used to. At first, it's cold and dreary, all of the colors are muted and the birds don't sing. Everything is dead and frozen. But there's something very beautiful about the stillness of it all."

"It sounds wonderful," Margaery sighed, and Ella felt again that she was lying to appease her. Nonetheless, she enjoyed the chance to reminisce about her home before it had been torn asunder by the Ironborn. Soon, she hoped, the Mallisters and Manderlys would send word that Winterfell had been seized, and that the Ironborn would soon be rooted from their land. Then one day Winterfell would be rebuilt, she hoped, and there she and Robb would return with Arya and Sansa and the boys. Nothing would be normal again, not ever, but Ella imagined a life of normalcy and peace, if only to get her through the harrowing days of war.

She looked out again over the sea, drawing in a long breath. Beautiful though Casterly Rock was, she couldn't help but to feel ill at ease within its halls. She would be glad to leave the place.

"What will you do with Casterly Rock?" she asked, turning her gaze to Margaery. "When all is said and done. There will be no Lannisters left to rule it."

"Give it to someone deserving, I'm sure," Margaery sighed. "Renly makes these decisions. He doesn't often include me in them."

Ella found it quite easy to forget that Margaery and Renly were married. They both held themselves very well as King and Queen separately, but together, there was so little affection between them, so little interaction at all, that it was as though they were rulers of two separate countries. She wasn't surprised at all to hear that Renly excluded her from such business.

"Or perhaps we'll use it as a vacation home," she chuckled briefly, before her expression turned stony. "Or perhaps we'll destroy it."

* * *

><p>Ella hadn't realized the feeling of threat that Joffrey had held over all of their heads until he was gone. She could hardly believe the feelings warring in her upon the news. There was joy and relief at the news that he was dead, finally dead. But along with it came fear and dread at the rumors that accompanied it: his new bride, their Sansa, had disappeared moments before Joffrey had died. Rumor had it that she and Littlefinger had orchestrated the King's death, and Cersei wanted her dead. Ella couldn't say how much truth she believed there to be about the rumor regarding Littlefinger, but she was sure that Cersei wanted Sansa dead. Cersei wanted all of them dead.<p>

She didn't remember very much about Tommen. It had been nearly two years since she'd met the royal family in Winterfell, and most of their visit, she had been so preoccupied with caring for the children after Bran's fall that she didn't bother to pay much attention to the royal family. She remembered getting the impression that Tommen was a young, sweet little thing. But being raised under the wing of Cersei, she was sure that he was no longer sweet and innocent. Even if he was, it just meant that he was an easier pawn for his mother to use.

Robb had nearly worked himself up into a fit at the news. He was glad that his sister was free of Joffrey – a marriage unconsummated and ended by death was basically a marriage annulled – but if Cersei believed that Sansa had killed Joffrey, then she would search for the girl with a vengeance. Ella couldn't bring herself to believe that Sansa would kill Joffrey. She couldn't bring herself to believe that Sansa would kill anyone. It didn't make sense, not considering the sweet little girl that she knew so well. Littlefinger, on the other hand…Ella had only ever heard stories of him, but from what she understood, he schemed and plotted like a spy. She could believe that he would kill Joffrey.

She had to calm Robb and assure him that Sansa was safe. Of course, she didn't know that, and could do nothing but pray, but Robb needed a level head. So while he strategized to keep his mind from his sister, Ella went to the Stone Garden, knelt before the weirwood, and prayed. She prayed for Sansa, and prayed for Catelyn, and hoped that for once, the gods would hear her.

**This took way longer than I meant for it to, sorry. I'm still hoping to get this story done by the end of May, so hopefully that shapes up.**

**Anyways, in response to GhostGlowLight who reviewed on chapter 3, Ella has brown hair and hazel eyes. I try to squeeze her description into the text when I can, but I find descriptions to be a bit awkward so I tend to leave them out. Sorry! I am trying to care more about little things like that but at the moment I'm just focused on getting the plot out and making it not shit. Heh.**

**A very, very huge massive thank you to DarylDixon'sLover, darkwolf76, saderia, dancewithdragons, WhatsGoingOn, Soccer-Bitch, The King in White, and alia00 for the reviews on the last chapter! Some of the things you guys said made me tear up, I was so touched and happy. Every single one of your reviews mean so much to me, I appreciate all of your support so much.**

**Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Until next time,**

**Rex**


	38. Thirty Eight

XXXVIII

Catelyn and the envoy of a hundred soldiers passed easily through the mountains of the Vale. It was at the Bloody Gate where their journey came to an unsettling turn. They were commanded to halt before the gate, the Knight standing high on the parapet and demanding they state their business in the Vale of Arryn.

"We accompany Lady Catelyn Stark," Smalljon Umber announced in his deep and booming voice. "The mother of King Robb Stark and sister of Lady Lysa Arryn."

"My lady," the Knight of the Gate said, voice echoing in the broad ravine. "May I offer my condolences. Lady Arryn is dead."

The Smalljon and the personal guard turned ashen faces towards Catelyn, who kept her head held high despite the harrowing sorrow that shined in her eyes.

"How many days since?" she asked, a faint quiver in her strong voice.

"Nearly six, my lady," he replied. He turned back to the gate. "Let them pass."

So they passed through the gate, Catelyn hanging her head low as they began their long ascent up the mountain. She hardly spoke as they rode, though admittedly she hadn't said much over the long journey. When they made camp along the road as evening began to fall, Dacey Mormont came over to offer her food.

"Lady Stark?" she asked gently. Her voice was so gruff, and she was so used to being so vulgar among the men, she felt as though she were speaking to a child to keep her voice so low. Catelyn looked up with heavy eyes. "I have your supper for you, my Lady."

Catelyn let out a breath slowly, the shake in it nearly indiscernible. "Thank you, Dacey."

"In the morning, we will send a raven to King Robb to inform him of your sister's death," she continued. Catelyn snapped her head up.

"Don't!" she barked, voice hoarse. "Anybody could shoot it down on its way. We've no idea what the Lannisters would do with information like this. No…wait until we reach the Eyrie. At least then, I might have some idea of what to do."

Dacey nodded her head. "As you wish, my Lady."

For the short remainder of the trip, Catelyn was mostly left alone. She kept her head bowed except for when they reached the doors of the Eyrie, when she raised her head proudly and declared in a stony voice that she was Catelyn Stark, sister of the late Lady Arryn and aunt of the Lord of the Eyrie. Until – no, they replied, for Petyr Baelish was Lord of the Eyrie. When Dacey turned to Catelyn in shock, she spotted rage shining in the woman's eyes, boiling just beneath the surface of Catelyn's polite façade. She said nothing, and the guards let them in.

The rage remained as they dismounted, as they were led through the halls of the Eyrie to the throne room where it was said that _Lord_ Baelish awaited them. The doors opened with a high-pitched shriek, and their footsteps echoed hollowly in the open hall. It was brighter and colder than when Catelyn was here last. She paused and her guards paused behind and around her.

"Catelyn," said Petyr with a reverence that sent uncomfortable shivers down their spines. "I was so happy to hear –"

"Sansa?" Catelyn stepped forward, brow furrowing when she caught sight of the dark-haired, willowy young woman who stepped out of the archway behind the throne.

"Mother?"

Sansa hurried down the stairs and Catelyn met her halfway, enveloping her daughter in her arms and holding her close to her chest. Sansa wept into her mother's hair, and Catelyn turned to face Petyr. He was watching them with something akin to pride in his eyes, a genuine happiness that was marred by something else beneath.

"You kept her safe?"

"She did not kill Joffrey," he replied. His smile betrayed the words unsaid: _but I might have_. "I knew the Lannisters would not care."

"Thank you," Catelyn said, and meant it with every fiber of her being. "_Thank you_."

"I only wish," Petyr continued after a moment, meandering towards them, "that I could have protected Lysa as well."

Catelyn felt her heart harden. She kept her mouth in a firm line and no longer had anything nice to say to him.

"The bard, Marillion…such a vile man. He'd tried to get close to Lysa, to touch her." Catelyn shifted her body to put herself between Sansa and Petyr as he began to wander up the steps. "I only wish I could have come in sooner…perhaps…. But there's no use in dwelling too deeply over the past, is there? Come. Let's get you situated before we gather for supper."

He turned back to the entrance, waving his hand and motioning for his guards to do away with Catelyn's guards. He led both mother and daughter back up the stairs, towards Sansa's chambers. Catelyn held tight to her daughter as they walked, occasionally running a soothing hand through her daughter's hair. It was dyed dark, no longer the pale orange she so loved. But this was the least of Catelyn's worries.

"You may stay here for now," Petyr said. "I'll soon have another – nicer – room prepared for you."

"No," Catelyn cut in with a resolute shake of her head. "Here is fine. Sansa is my daughter, she and I don't mind sharing a room. And for now, we ought to freshen up for dinner. I've had such a long journey."

"Of course," said Petyr, bowing his head and stepping back. "I'll come fetch you myself when dinner is prepared."

Catelyn watched him walk down the hall a moment before the shut and latched the door behind him. Turning back, she gathered Sansa in her arms again, hushing her gently and kissing her forehead.

"Has he treated you well?" she asked softly. Sansa nodded, swallowing thickly.

"He took me away from the wedding. Everybody thinks I did it – but I didn't do it, I didn't poison him. Lord Baelish took me away from there."

"Good. We'll soon enough have you home. Robb and Ella are at Casterly Rock right now, but you and I will go to Riverrun to wait out the war. When Robb's men have taken back Winterfell, then we'll go home."

"It won't be the same," Sansa said, voice so fragile that Catelyn forgot it was a young woman standing before her and not the little girl she'd known.

"Of course not, my dear girl," she said sadly, brushing Sansa's dark hair away from her face. "But it will be Winterfell."

"Lord Baelish married Aunt Lysa," she said softly, though there was a hard edge growing in her voice. Her tone made Catelyn narrow her eyes. "She _loved_ him."

Now, Catelyn kept her voice especially low. "Sansa," she whispered, "you must tell me the truth. Did Marillion kill Lysa?"

Sansa's eyes flickered, red-rimmed, and she took a shaking breath.

"It was Lord Baelish," she whispered, sad and angry, "he told her he loved you and he pushed her through the Moon Door."

Catelyn breathed out a long, terrible breath, before pulling her shaking daughter to her chest and running a hand over her hair.

"Shh," she soothed. "Petyr Baelish has been trouble to us for long enough. Soon, we won't have to worry about him anymore."

She accompanied Sansa to supper, sitting across from Lord Baelish and young Robin, making small talk with Lord Baelish whilst Robin played with his food. He told them how happy he was that they were all there, together, and Catelyn sipped her wine to keep from retching. When dinner ended, he had offered to escort Catelyn back to the chambers she and Sansa would share, but Catelyn snatched Robin's hand and declined, offering to ready the boy for bed.

She tucked him up warm, humming to him gently when he demanded a song of her. He was not a very sweet boy, but any child becomes sensitive when they're moments away from sleep. When she had lulled him, she took his hand.

"Sweetrobin?" she asked. "You love your family, don't you?"

"I loved Mother," he said softly.

"Do you love Lord Baelish?"

There, she hesitated, blinking sleepily. "Mother loved Lord Baelish. Lord Baelish said he loved her. He gives me presents often."

"What if..." Catelyn began, choosing her words carefully. "What if you were Lord of the Vale, instead of Lord Baelish? Would you like that?"

Robin's eyes widened, and he nodded excitedly.

"Now, you must understand, Robin, Lord Baelish will go away forever if you become Lord of the Vale."

Robin thought about it for scarcely a moment before nodding again. "I want to be Lord of the Vale, Aunt Catelyn."

"Then in the morning," she said, "you must tell the Maester to call the banners. It will show everyone you are powerful enough to rule the Eyrie. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Aunt Catelyn," he said, cuddling down into his blankets. She ran a hand over his head, torn between feelings of guilt and victory as she watched her nephew drift into sleep.

"Goodnight then, Robin."

She stood and returned to the chambers she shared with Sansa, holding her daughter and staring into the fire with dread and hope warring in her heart. And that morning, the sun illuminated the wings of the ravens as they departed from the Eyrie, bearing the words that would raise the armies of the Vale, and Petyr Baelish woke with his hands in irons.

**I do not like Petyr Baelish. I also do not like how season 5 is going thus far. Sansa – or, as I like to call her, Sansa Stark My One True Love – deserves so much better from the show writers. Regardless, I'm very glad to have control of her here, and to be able to get her back with her family! I was listening to the Game of Thrones soundtrack, as I often do while I write, and really dark and ominous tracks kept coming on, I felt like I should be writing a murder plot twist. Which would be cool, maybe, if I didn't want to wrap this up in as few chapters as possible, but I'm really itching to get this done – and soon. **

**Anyways….I'm sorry this chapter is shit. And short. This chapter was sitting there for so long begging me to make it better, and I kept saying, "Sorry bro, I dunno how to make you better." There are just some chapters that are tough to get out, you know? I would have spent more time on this chapter and tried to make it better, but I'm trying to set a deadline for myself as to when I have these done. I hope you can all forgive me! I promise I'll spend more time on the next chapters to make them better and more enjoyable.**

**This weekend I'm really going to try to write my little ass off and finish this. I graduate next week and my goal was to get this done before I graduate, but if not then at least I want to get this done before May is over. I've only got three chapters left to write, so I'm feeling pretty good about getting them done over the weekend. But we'll see!**

**Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, darkwolf76, saderia, HermioneandMarcus, and Whitwhit1893 for the reviews! I appreciate your support so very, very much! I know this chapter wasn't the best, but I hope you enjoyed it at least a little bit, and I promise I'll work very hard to make the next chapters better!**

**Until next time,**

**Rex**


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